Darkness Holds the Light
by Speedstreek360
Summary: Megatron, the Lord High Protector of Cybertron, has been given a Bodyguard, named Galvatron, a former gladiator form the pits of Kaon. They didn't expect to fall in love with each other. A love that was disapproved by the corrupted High Council, and soon led to the long, dreadful, Great War of Cybertron. Set in Transformers G1 AU. Slash, no like? No read then!
1. Prologue

Okay, to explain to everyone before we begin: This fic is based on my AU where Megatron and Galvatron are two separate mechs who fall in love with each other and my take on how the Great War may have started because of it.

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

Enjoy!

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Prologue

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**_Present day, Cybertron_**

…..

It was dark here in the ruins. So dark, that not even the brightest lantern could have illuminated through it. Yet, he could see the dimly lit red optics, of two of his soldiers, who refused to go into recharge within the debris of what was once Crystal City.

He himself could not recharge. Not when at any moment, an explosive could land in their hiding spot, and blow them all into the black oblivion of death.

Autobots were still on Cybertron, still continuing the war.

They needed to get to Dark mount, soon.

There was a sudden flash of white that shone, and for the slightest moment, the mechs were completely visible, when a beacon of white flame shined like a fallen star had descended from the heavens and landed on their planet.

Galvatron looked in the direction, the white outshining his violet armor, but it could not last long enough to outshine the darkness. His face plates were weary from age and the horrors of the war he had been snatched up into. The three regal crests on his helm were scratched, and slightly dented from years of fighting.

He could barely remember the last time he hadn't been fighting in this place, and when he even tried, all that came to mind was the Cybertron before this and even that was too distant a memory to appear. But one thing that came clearly to him was the one mech he had joined this war for. He remembered so much: a flash of silver, a smile with two little fangs on the top row of his denta, the crimson optics that shown like a raging inferno in the heat of enraged battle, or with unbridled lust, a soft chuckle from a charismatic voice, and handsome, chiseled face plates of a leader and a fighter.

He reached up and touched the insignia he wore on his chest plates, his optics dimming darker, and darker.

It's been so long….so very long….

A sense of nostalgia filled his spark, as he remembered everything before the war, so far into the past, but still not far enough to forget. Galvatron could not forget, and would not let himself forget.

He may be a warrior, he may be a mad animal in the midst of battle, he may be considered an insane general amongst the Autobots and a few of his own men, but none of that mattered anymore. Not with his spark aching and broken.

Not when his mate was gone forever, lost in the universe, most likely dead, never to return.

Never to return….

He tilted his helm back, and breathed a heavy sigh. His leader. His fighter. His lover. His mate. The light in his existence, and the hope for all the Decepticons future.

The named slipped past his lips, "Megatron…."

…..

**_Earth, Present day_**

…..

Megatron ran his fingers over the soft silk sash the color of crimson. He traced the designs, and the purple clasp at the top of it, with the insignia that once bore as the symbol that only the Lord High Protector wore.

He remembered the day he was given this sash: it was a gift, since many of the generals wore sashes like this to the higher-classes gatherings, during the Golden age of Cybertron, though he truly saw no point in ever going to those.

He cherished the sash. It held a ling to his past, wrapped in its silken comfort, yet those memories were still so painful.

Outside this room, he was the fearless, emotionless, bloodthirsty leader of the Decepticons. But only to the men who never truly knew him. Those who knew him, who were there when this started, understood and saw past his mask.

In here, all walls broke and he took a moment to travel through his past, by taking out things, he held dear before the war, as well as the sash. He had beautiful crystal, blue rose, one of the rarest plants, found in the most expensive of gardens, a dagger with an electrum handle, made of the purest steel.

He held the dagger and rose to his chest, over his spark, the sash pressed to his cheek, as he remember the mech who had given him these precious things that he cherished so, because of all their links to the past. He allowed a single tear to slip past his off-lined optics.

This was his get away from his men, from his crushing requirements and obligations as leader, this was where he pulled himself together, when he's about to break, THIS was where he could feel safe and remember everything he held dear to him. That was once held dear to him.

It was no more….

He hissed, "Galvatron…may Primus be with you…" he shook slightly with the pent up pain he's held back for centuries.

...

Review please!

Or I WILL SEND THE DOCTOR OF DOOM AFTER YOU!


	2. Chapter 1

to Optimus' Girl: Optimus will appear in chapter 3 as Orion Pax, and he plays a role in the story, don't worry!

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

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**_ Cybertron, Kaon: the Golden Age, hundreds of Stellar-cycles ago_**

…..

Kaon was not, nor had ever been a good place to live. It's where traders captured mechs and femmes for slaves, where the most dangerous gangs and criminals strived and survived, bribing the peace-keeper's, where brothels filled with the desperate and needy. But the worst of it was if one lived in the Gladiatorial pits, where the light from the sun could never reach the inhabitants.

The only sources of light were the pale pink veins running through the walls, the inside of the fighters' rooms, or within the arenas themselves. It's said that sometimes it was dark enough that when a gladiator went outside, into the light, they wouldn't be able to see correctly for days.

It may not be the best place to live, but for some, it was home. Familiar, and strangely calming.

Galvatron slept in his quarters, but his systems were still up thirty percent. One thing he had learned down here, is that one should always be alert, even in recharge.

Never let your guard down.

The violet mech never had a moment of true peace. He had enemies amongst the rings, and it was common to see a mech with his throat slit and spark chamber torn out by the morning. And he refused to be that mech.

Unfortunately, his snoring didn't help much with his hearing, since it covered the small creak of his door opening.

The peaceful dark of his dream world was to be disrupted.

He was jolted awake, when a weight landed on his abdomen.

Galvatron's body was forced from its slumbering position to sit up on the berth. His mind was confused. Was he being attacked? Had his ceiling cracked in his sleep, causing a chunk of debris to fall on him? Or was he simply dreaming? He grunted in discomfort, enough to disprove his dream theory, before his optics adjusted to the dim room. He found the the mere source of his rude awakening: a sparkling.

"Hello, Gladiator Galvatron!" the little one smiled flickering his small wings, and the two horns of his helm twitching in obvious giddiness of the morning.

Galvatron narrowed his optics, before crossing his arms over his chest plates, "Apprentice Cyclonus, care to explain the meaning of your actions?"

The little one flickered his wings, "Father sent me to get you. He wanted you to know that he needed you down in the training room to get ready for your battle today!"

Ah yes, Cyclonus' father. One of the leading Gladiators, who was a flier banned from Vos for dishonoring the arranged bond he had with a high ranking femme, and bonded with a femme from the slums. She died at the birth.

Surprisingly, he was one of the few honorable mechs of the rings that has survived them so long. He was feared and respected greatly by the other warriors.

Galvatron held deep respect for the mech. After all, if it hadn't been for him, he'd still be scrounging for fuel in the alleyways, trying to survive off wasted energon, avoiding authorities, slave traders and gangs.

The older mech sighed, shaking his helm, before quirking an optic ridge, "You could have just knocked, you know," he reached up and rubbed the seekerling's helm, giving a smile and a chuckle, when the little one purred, and nuzzled his servo, like a little cyber-kitten.

For some reason, the little one adored him like he was an older brother. Not that Galvatron minded, since he was one of the few sparkling apprentices he didn't find annoying.

The mech picked up the seekerling and then placed him on the ground. He turned so he pedes landed on the floor, before he stretched, arching his back. Small cracks and pops sounded from his joints as he did so.

He cracked his neck a moment, before he stood up. Cyclonus looked up at the large mech, only coming up to his thigh. He might have looked like a giant to the little one. No matter how many times the seekerling saw him, the little one always held awe, adoration and brotherly affection in his wide red optics. And it saddened the older gladiator that that kind of innocence wouldn't last long down here.

Galvatron turned to the weapons he kept hung up on the wall, his optics narrowed at the sight of them. He walked over cracking his knuckles, before picking up two axes, and then a spear.

There were other weapons, but in today's fight, he wanted something familiar. He's used them plenty of times before, understood how to move with them, to used them to his advantage better than any other weapons he's used. They would be considered his signature weapons, before he had chosen to start alternating weapons in order to keep his opponents guessing of what he would use in the battle.

Suddenly, there was a small gurgling sound. Galvatron shuttered his optics in slight bewilderment, before eyeing the seekerling who twisted his heel into the floor.

"….You skipped your morning energon again, didn't you?" Galvatron said, flatly.

His suspicions were confirmed when Cyclonus refused to look him in the optics. The adult grumbled, before he placed his weapons in the sheaths on his back, and then he picked up the mechling.

"HEY!" the little one screeched in indignity.

Galvatron ignored the kid's struggling, whining and the small fists pounding on his shoulder as he carried the sparkling out of his quarters.

Cyclonus tended to skip his meals a lot, saying that he was trying to conserve more energon for the others. The little one had a low self-esteem, saw himself as an unimportant waste of scrap.

It annoyed the pit out of Galvatron. He hated it when young mechs brought harm to themselves, due to no confidence, depression and/or they believed they were worthless.

Most of this was caused because of the teasing from the other apprentices and a few mentors due to the strange horns on Cyclonus' helm that reminded most mechs and femmes of a petro-rabbit. It didn't help that his father was busy with keeping the other gladiators in line and couldn't be there for his son at the times he was needed. He loved his son, but with his position, he barely had time for him. Galvatron didn't have much time either, due to training, matches, and dealing with other apprentices. But there were times he was able to be there, and he usually gave those little brats a piece of his processor, via his battle axe.

"Struggle as much as you wish Cyclonus, you are eating your energon, even if I have to force feed you! You know I will…." Galvatron snarled at the struggling mechling.

And thus, he started his morning with being forced out of his recharge to prepare for a match, and having to deal with a stubborn child.

…..

**_Cybertron, Iacon_**

….

If there was one thing Iacon's city was famous for, it was its highest tower that rose from the center, and was the giant over the city. It left the longest of shadows at the beginning and the end of each solar-cycle.

Iacon was the capital of Cybertron, for it was where the Prime, the Council and the Lord High Protector lived, as well as the higher-classed Cybertronians.

Sentinel Prime went over the reports from his spies in his personal office in the great tower of Iacon. He lived and worked there, looking over the great city from the highest point he could possibly be inside.

Council Members on the next floor communing and speaking to each other of their families, their hobbies, the latest slaves or courtesans they bought behind the backs of their bond-mates.

And then came the Lord High Protector lying on the third floor. Sitting on the edge of his berth, with his hands resting in his lap. Staring off at nothing, lost in his thoughts.

Megatron, head of the government, son of the original Lord High Protector, and nephew to the Prime, was considered a strange one by those from Iacon.

For one thing, he had red optics the color of rubies. Doctors had said it was part of a small mutation from his mother's side, since his mother had blue optics, but a few of her family members had red.

He was also very quiet and alone when he was younger, always keeping to himself, always driving the other sparklings and younglings off with razor-edged words and a coldness beyond his years. Yet, in his own ways, he amazed many with his skills as a leader and a warrior.

Not many understood him, and those that did believed it had something to do with what happened many, many stellar-cycles ago.

The silver mech stood up from his berth and stretched out his limbs, cracking his back as he did so. He walked out of his quarters and into another room.

This one was smaller, and there was a smaller berth, with a desk stacked with data pads and stylus. On the small berth was a small, curled up little mechling all snuggled up in blankets.

An ebony hand reached out slowly and caressed the navy blue helm of the recharging child.

"Soundwave…." He whispered.

The child left out a soft mewl, before shifting in his recharge.

"Soundwave, wake up please," he nudged the little one, until those amber optics on-lined.

Soundwave shuttered his almond shaped amber optics, before looking up at Megatron. The little mechling sat up and shook his helm to wake himself up. He smiled up at the silver mech, rubbing the sleep out of his left optic.

"Hello, Amma, I mean, Lord High Protector…" Soundwave said softly, blushing in slight embarrassment from forgetting to call him by his title.

Megatron gave a small smile, "Soundwave, you're allowed to call me Amma, when it's just you and me, or it's you, me and Ratchet around."

He reached out and caressed the little one's helm. He had found Soundwave three stellar-cycles ago. There had been a riot outside the tower. Megatron had been forced to have his military personnel push back the rioters when it got out of control and Sentinel Prime's life was in danger.

When it was cleared out, he went out to see if there were any survivors and to make sure that if there were, that they were sent to the hospital: the rioters had been citizens, not soldiers.

He had found little Soundwave sobbing beside his parents corpse, and he later found out that the little mechling had been there for three stellar-cycles without energon or shelter.

Feeling sorry for him, the Lord High Protector had picked up the little one and carried him back inside to be looked at by Ratchet. It was when he was holding the little one to his chest plates, that he had felt that sudden pull towards the child, the utter need to protect and nourish him.

It hadn't been hard to convince Ratchet and the Prime to let him keep the little one.

In fact, nowadays, it was only Soundwave and Ratchet who could really bring a smile to his face plates. Soundwave, with his innocence and his dedication to his studies, always made his spark swell with pride. Ratchet always made him crack a grin with his outrageous methods of how he dealt with his patients with his wrench and his fantastic sense of sarcasm.

He smiled at his adopted creation, "Time for energon, little one."

Soundwave raised his arms up, so that Megatron could pick him up and carry him to the energon dispenser. It was quicker than having to stop and wait every four minutes to the little one to catch up to him.

"Amma?" Soundwave asked in that soft voice of his, as they stopped in front of the dispenser.

"Yes?" Megatron took a cube and started to fill it with premium low-grade.

He felt the little one hug him around his neck, "Why are you so sad?"

The silver mech didn't look down, focusing his attention on getting the energon. He kept his body remaining still, before he pressed the side of his cheek against his little one's helm.

"I guess….it's because I'm not happy with the life I'm leading….."

Surrounded in lies, treated as the prime's shadow, false promises, pain, greed and corruption…..

"Did something happen to you?" Soundwave said, as he was handed his cube of nourishing energon.

Those ruby red optics flashed, "…..yes…..but it's not important anymore….that part of me left long ago…."

He caressed Soundwave's helm, as memories of a crowd roaring in approval and clashing weapons, the smell of heated metal. No lies, no masks of deceit, only the pinprick feeling that was once the swelling euphoria of victory, swarmed through his helm in blurred images that were never quite clear.

Pecking his little one's helm, the Lord High Protector went to see what was to be faced today and pushed back all the memories of his time before he was made the Lord High Protector of Cybertron.

...

Review please!

And to answer one of my reviewer's questions, yes if I was going to follow the canon, they would be the same person, but this is my TF AU. I'm sorry if i confused you in any way.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is here!

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

Enjoy!

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Chapter 2

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**_Cybertron, Kaon_**

….

Stormflare is one of the few seeker mechs to ever gain respect from all gladiators from the rings. His influence was in both his words and his blades, making him a powerful ally or a deadly enemy. He did not have a temper, but it was proved unwise to rouse his anger.

He was famous for his years in the rings, and kept everything in as much order as he could.

The dark blue seeker watched the gladiators in the training room, warming up for their match, or cooling down from their victory. He watched young apprentices sitting at the benches, their rapt attention completely focused on the elder gladiators, such hope and determination to be like them one day shining in their mixed optics of cyan, emerald, violet and crimson.

Speaking of apprentices, where was his son, Cyclonus? Considering how fast his son was, he should have been here by now with gladiator Galvatron, so he could prepare him for the upcoming match today.

Three seconds after this thought crossed his processor, the two entered the training room. With Galvatron's chest and face plates covered in low grade energon.

Raising an optic ridge, Stormflare walked over, his arms crossed over his chest plates, one optic ridge quirked up in question and his lips thinned out in a line of slight disapproval.

"Do I wish to know how you got covered in energon?"

Galvatron's left optic twitched, before he pointed down at an ashamed looking Cyclonus, whose helm was bowed.

"He wouldn't refuel again sir and I tried to get him to eat it," Galvatron cast a slight glare at the apprentices sitting down on the bench who had started pointing in his direction and giggling to each other.

The head of Kaon's Gladiatorial Pits, reached up to rub at his optics in slight exasperation. After a moment, he sighed and then he knelt down in front of his son. Gently he took his child's chin in between his fingers and gently made him look him in the optics, before caressing his cheek gently.

"Cyclonus, this behavior is unbecoming of a future Gladiator," he said firmly, but he said it with some warmth.

Cyclonus looked up at his father with sad optics, "….I didn't want anyone to waist their energon one me. There are lots of other gladiators and apprentices who need it more than me."

A soft smile pulled at the father's lips, "I appreciate you looking out for the others, but if you don't refuel and keep causing trouble for your big brother here," he patted Galvatron on the leg, ignoring the annoyed grumbling from said gladiator, "then you'll get in trouble and may not become a gladiator like me and Galvatron. You don't want that do you?"

Cyc shook his helm vigorously from side to side, "….N-no, but—!"

"Good boy," Stormflare cut him off before he could protest, giving him an affectionate pat on the helm and a reassuring smile, before he stood up, "Now, go get ready to train with the other apprentices or your instructor might yell at you again."

The little one stared at his father for a moment, before giving a quick nod and then turned to go join the other apprentices. Although the two adults didn't miss how the little ones were narrowing their optics when the violet flier sat on an empty spot between a cerulean colored femme and an amber mech.

Galvatron gave the apprentices a warning look and they immediately turned their attention back to the fighting gladiators they had been focused on earlier.

He turned back to Stormflare and was a met with a glare from his old mentor.

"What?" he said.

CLANG!

The purple gladiator's helm had a small dent where Stormflare had struck him. It made the gladiator wince in pain from the force of that strike.

"You should have been here a mega-cycle ago," Stormflare rebuked him, his optics taking a slightly brighter hue."

"Ah…Primus, I didn't mean to be late, sir…" he rubbed at the small dent his mentor had left.

"I don't want apologies, I want to see blood and tears in this training room and in the match tonight!" Stormflare growled, "You've wasted enough time trying to do MY job as Cyclonus' father, and the more time you waste, the less prepared you are!"

The purple mech gave his mentor a pointed look, as the seeker turned to the weapons rack behind him, "Sir, with all due respect, I've been training for three breems to prepare myself for this match."

Stormflare's wings hitched up, "If by training, you mean wooing those brothel mechs that come down to visit, then we have nothing to worry about," he picked up Vosian metal javelin, and looked it over, his sight set on finding and blemishes or impurities in the metal, "besides, considering all the opponents you have to deal with, I'd be surprised if you even lasted a click."

The groundling mech gave a soft growl at the insult.

His old mentor paid no heed to his offended ex-pupil as he placed the javelin down and then picked up an Iaconian electrum sword, giving it the same studious lookover he had given the javelin.

"Besides, I would think this match would be important if you wanted to do something that doesn't involve the Gladiatorial pits for a while…." Stormflare grumbled, before he placed the sword down with an unimpressed hum.

Galvatron quirked an optic ridge in slight confusion, "What are you are talking about?"

The seeker turned to him and gave him a look that would make the gravest of mechs look cheery. He only ever got this look when he felt one of his prodigies seemed to have not yet realized something.

"The Prime and the Council will be there," Stormflare simply stated, like it was something that normally happened.

There were a few moments of silence, before realization finally glowed in Galvatron's pit fire optics, "What?! What do you mean the blasted Prime and fragging High Council are going to be there?!"

"Shhh!" the seeker slapped a hand over the younger mech's mouth plating, before motioning his helm to the side.

When the gladiator looked over, he saw that the others in the room, from the young apprentices, to the elder fighters. Immediately, he pushed Stormflare's hand from his mouth, and then glared at the others staring at them. When the onlookers returned to their own business, Galvatron turned to narrow his optics at Stormflare.

He lowered the volume of his voice so only Stormflare heard him, "You mean to tell me that the highest ranking mechs on Cybertron are coming here to watch the match? The one me and several other gladiators are fighting tonight?"

"That is what I was told," Stormflare said softly.

"Why didn't you tell me at the beginning?!" the violet mech hissed, baring his denta in a snarl.

Stormflare replied, with a small flicker from his wings, "I did not wish to stress you over this for the past few breems. If I did, you would have overdone things, and then we'd have gotten nowhere by the time we got to the match," he placed a hand on the younger mech's shoulder, "Now then, instead of arguing with me, you should be training with whatever time you have left," he gave the younger mech a smile and gave his shoulder strut a pat to move him forwards, before he passed him to exit the training room.

Galvatron stood still in his spot, feeling anxiety pumping throughout his body, like the energon through his circuitry. He felt like a rookie in his first match that was going up against the undefeated king of the rings.

He went over the names of his opponents in his processor. But with each name he looked at, it caused his body to tighten from the inside out. Each opponent was a high ranking gladiator, some with a rank like Stormflare's, others that had made a reputation written in the energon blood they spilled and then there were the few like Galvatron who were past the apprentice stage and were full gladiators, but still had some more to learn.

He was brought out of his thoughts, when the soft whistling noise of metal slicing through the pressure of the air reached his audios. Out of reflex, both hands came up and slapped together.

When he looked at them, he found himself holding a Praxian energon sword.

"Well, well, look who decided to join us this morning!"

Optics narrowing, Galvatron flipped the sword so he could hold it by its hilt and then sheathed a part of the tip into the floor. A mech gladiator of the colors dark evergreen and dark indigo, with amber optics. An unpleasant smirk formed on his face plates that the violet fighter desired to punch those face plates into the point that no one would recognize them.

"Is there a problem, Nightshifter?" Galvatron tried to keep the anger from crackling into his voice, as one of his most unpleasant rivals walked up to him.

Nightshifter shook his helm, waving his hand dismissively, "Oh no, whatever would make you say that, little fighter?"

Galvatron's left optic twitched at the insulting nickname that had been given to him when he was still living on the streets. Nightshifter and his goons used to hunt for him in alleyways and shove him around when he was barely into his youngling years. They did it for fun after one of them lost in a match. He remembered always getting left for scrap afterwards, covered in dents and bleeding.

But that wasn't the only reason he didn't like this mech. Not only was he an aft who liked to beat up barely grown sparklings, he also enjoyed taking out his opponents in the slowest and most torturous ways possible, whether it was in—or out—of the arenas where the fights took place. Some mechs who defeated Nightshifter were found maimed and distorted in their berths the next day, but they were so mess up that no one could find evidence pointed at the mech.

It didn't help that Nightshifter was one of the enemies he was fighting today.

He put on a forced smile, "Oh I don't know, maybe it's the fact that this little thing…" he unsheathed the sword that had been aiming for his face plates, "almost ruined my face plates. I didn't get these handsome features overnight you know…."

"Not that there isn't any room for improvement," Nightshifter retorted, with an indifferent shrug that made Galvatron fight the urge to shove that mech's blade right down his retched throat and then move it around to tear up the lining of his energon fuel lines.

"Although you do need it more than I do," Galvatron's smile became less forced and more pleasant when that smug, sneering smirk disappeared from Nightshifter's face plates.

The older gladiator straightened himself up, dragging his denta over his bottom lip. Then he chuckled sinisterly.

"If I were you right now, I would be worrying more about winning this competition today, instead of kissing up to my mentor by watching his little brat," he motioned his helm towards Cyclonus, who was currently sparring with a black and silver mechling, and the poor violet seeker was losing.

Galvatron shook slightly, "…you're not always going to have you cronies watching your back Nightshifter. And when that day comes, you might find one of my axes chopping your helm in half while the handle of my other one is shoved right up your—"

"Galvatron!" a voice cut him off.

A servo bigger than his helm, slapped down on his servo, making the violet mech flinch at the suddenness of it. Then, there was a warm moist, greasy feeling coming from that very servo and it made his tank churn. He looked at the owner of that hand and found himself lookin up at a grinning purple, black and blue shuttle mech.

"Hey there buddy, what's goin' on?" the mech said.

Nightshifter snickered at Galvatron's discomfort, "Well hello Skyrage, come to pay Galvatron a visit?"

Skyrage was one of the few shuttle mechs in Kaon that was a fighter in the rings. He was a nice mech and he seemed like an overgrown youngling instead of a full grown, battle hardened gladiator. Though, when he was angry, one must make sure they have a place nearby to run to immediately. He also had a problem with hygiene, since he didn't bathe all that much.

Skyrage tilted his helm, "Well, actually, I have a match in a few clicks, but I heard Galvy was going to be in the big tournament this evening, so I came to wish the guy some luck!" he patted Galvatron's shoulder.

The young gladiator had to keep himself from purging when he felt something gushy moving between that large hand and his shoulder.

"Th-thanks Skyrage…." He reached up to pat Skyrage on the shoulder and then froze when he felt something slimy on his hand, "Good luck at yours too…." He dropped Nightshifter's sword, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make a trip to the washracks…."

When he moved out of Skyrage's grip, Galvatron felt the smallest bit of half processed energon come up his throat and leave a nasty taste on his glossa. Where the large servo had been was an imprint of said servo made up of a dark, black slime.

He turned and power-walked out of the training room and towards the washracks, hearing Nightshifter's laughter throughout.

If he did not win the tournament tonight, then he was going to murder someone, preferably his rivals…

…

**_Cybertron, Iacon_**

…

Sunlight shined through the large row of windows down the corridors. When it shined, it left small spots of colors as the inhabitants of the High Tower of Iacon walked through it.

Megatron walked through, Soundwave walking beside him with his small blue hand on the large black one. The silver mech was going over a data pad of a report from one of his generals, while walking Soundwave to his private tutor.

He didn't feel comfortable sending his adopted creation somewhere in Iacon that was far away from him, considering the threats that have been issued towards the high command lately. It wasn't that he didn't trust the security of the sparkling centers and academies, but he had a feeling that if Soundwave went to one, he wouldn't fit in well.

The little one was special, in a way that the other sparklings would not understand. The Lord High Protector learned from experiences of his own that when children and their parents or teachers were face with something they could not comprehend well, they tend to react with hostility.

No one deserved to go through that.

"Amma?"

"Hmm?" Megatron stopped, looked up from the report and then over at Soundwave, "Yes, my little one?"

Soundwave tilted his helm as if trying to figure out something, "Why aren't there other sparklings around?"

"Because most of the sparklings that live here are full grown mechs and femmes now, dear," Megatron said softly, releasing the child's hand and gently caressing his helm. Then he gave a slightly concerned and understanding look, "Are you feeling lonely at all Soundwave?"

The amber optics that met his ruby ones said it all. They looked sad and lonely, in need of someone to play with him and help him forget the loneliness. Megatron's position demanded much of his time and it often forced him to leave the little one, even though he tried his hardest to be there as much as he could. The little one, bless his little spark, was very understanding of his requirements and never tried to push him.

The silver mech knelt down in front of Soundwave, placing the data pad on the ground beside him.

"Soundwave, I know how lonely you are. If you want, I could ask some of my cousins to see if there's anyone your age to play with," he offered.

Soundwave's optic ridges furrowed and he shook his helm from side to side, "No thank you."

Now the silver mech became confused, "Why not?"

"Because they're snooty…like Uncle Sentinel…" Soundwave pouted, while scrunching his face plates slightly to prove his point.

There was a soft snort, as the silver mech covered his mouth plating. He snickered at the accuracy of Soundwave's statement and he tried to hide his smile.

After a moment he composed himself—and was failing miserably—before saying, "Now Soundwave, you must be nice to your Uncle Sentinel—heh-heh—even if he can be," he imitated child's face plates as he said it, "snooty."

The little one giggled. The silver mech picked up his little one and hugged him for making him laugh today, even if it was just a little one. It was so rare that he found something to laugh about these solar-cycles, considering how busy he's been trying to keep Cybertron safe for everyone.

"Amma?"

"Yes?"

"Will you find me someone to be my friend?"

Megatron looked down at his adopted son, before he smiled warmly, "Yes. I will try to find you someone, who will play with you, make you laugh and smile, as well as be one of your good friends that last a lifetime."

"Okay…." Soundwave purred, when his Amma nuzzled his face plates against his.

He placed the little one back down, and picked the data pad back up, "Now, we must hurry, before you are late for you lessons with Miss Beta," _and before Sentinel decides to tear me a new one, if I'm late for this meeting,_ he said the last part mentally.

His uncle was not a patient mech and when he was towards the end of it, he tended to lose his temper with the one who made him impatient. The Lord High Protector did not wish to get into a fight with Sentinel, no matter how much he disliked the Prime.

The silver mech was always left stressed and irritated afterwards and it caused him to snap at the mech or femme who speaks to him first.

Hopefully, if that was the case, he didn't run into Ratchet. Last time that happened he returned to his quarters with three dents from the wrench of doom and they had to put him on leave from work from massive processor aches.

Megatron still got one or two migraines from just remembering the entire ordeal these solar-cycles.

...

Review please!

To Optimus' Girl: I have a few favorites, but my most favorite Decepticons are Cyclonus, Galvatron and Megatorn, and my most favorite Autobots are Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3, YIPPEEE!

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

Enjoy!

...

Chapter 3

...

**_Cybertron, Iacon_**

….

A tapping noise seemed to echo softly through the Prime's office, from calloused, metal fingers tapping against the hard surface on his desk. The office walls were white and blank. No pictures of family or friends, only small trinkets and ugly statues. The only thing pleasing to the optics was the lovely light of Cybertron, a glass flower with shades of red, orange and gold.

It brought small life into the room of blankness, but even its beauty went unnoticed by the Prime.

Sitting beside it, gazing at it with fascination, was a young red, blue and white mech, his blue optics completely focused in slight curiosity.

He reached up to touch the delicate petals.

"Orion Pax."

He jumped slightly at the sound of his name, turning to his mentor and guardian, Sentinel Prime.

The Prime raised an optic ridge at his pupil, "That flower is a gift from one of my Councilors; I would rather appreciate it if you didn't touch it and returned to your work on filing the data pads."

The young mech bowed his helm in respect, mumbling a soft "yes sir" and returned to tall tower of stacked data pads. Orion sighed in slight defeat, before he reached up and gently began putting the files into different areas concerning their subjects.

Being the Prime's apprentice was not as nice as it sounded. Most of the time, Orion spent time reading data pads, doing work for Sentinel, or down in the combat arena training with his instructors in battle tactics and fighting. It was hard work the cost him a lot of his time, time he could be spending playing with his friends, Dion, Ironhide and Ariel or reading some of the ancient texts in the library.

But the young mech did not wish to disappoint his leader and mentor, so he just spent his time in his quarters and places in the tower to work and run errands.

Sentinel kept moving his optics to the door as he started typing at his schedule and replying to messages and news from his councilors about the uprisings going on around Cybertron. Checking his chronometer, he growled softly when he saw that his nephew, Megatron was late once again. Primus why did he have to have such an aggravating nephew? Did the mech fall on his helm and break something as a child?

Orion looked up, with a raise optic ridge when he heard the older mech grumble.

He was about to ask what was wrong with Sentinel, when the doors to the office opened.

Megatron came in, hands hanging at his sides and head held high, as he entered the Prime's quarters. His red optics took a moment to sweep over the grey and white room, with a raised optic ridge. Clearly unimpressed with the Prime's office, but then again, anyone who entered here might have been put off by how blank and unwelcoming it was.

He looked at Sentinel, "Prime, sir," when his optics settled on Orion, he gave a small smile and his expression softened as he nodded in the younger mech's direction, "Orion."

The young mech returned the nod and smile at the Lord High Protector in respect.

When Orion had first met the silver mech, he could barely come up to th silver mech's knee plate. He remembered looking at him in awe and amazement, for the mech seemed to glow with a certain confidence and pride. He still did, but over the years it reduced, as the council and the Prime became more and more powerful and used him to control the cities he swore to protect.

There was just something about the mech that seemed…..a bit off. Like when he looked at Orion in meetings or when they talked in the hallway, there was this sort of….affection and pride in the silver mech's optics, along with a warm small tug of his lips. And when he spoke with him, he sounded more like a stern, yet caring parent, instead of a commanding officer to one of his subordinates.

"Forgive me for the tardiness, Prime sir," Megatron bowed to the Prime respectfully, but somehow his frame seemed to radiate the resentment inside him as well.

Sentinel waved it off, "Sit down please, Lord High Protector."

He stood up straight and did as he was commanded.

The Prime picked up a data pad from the pile next to Orion, before picking up a small pair of spectacles, "Now, it has come to my attention that we have had more uprisings in Kaon in a few breems than Iacon has had in a whole stellar-cycle," Sentinel gave the younger mech a questioning look, "Care to explain why they seemed to have increased and why you have not done anything about it?"

Megatron tensed slightly, before straightening his posture, "Well sir, I see no reason to send in any of my military staff to take care of a few small riots that have been easily dispatched by the law enforcement. Most of the citizens there are—"

"Criminals," the Prime cut him off with that one curt word.

It silenced the silver mech, as small shadows seemed to cover his optics with his lips set in a thin line.

Sentinel removed his spectacles to give his nephew a small glare of disapproval, "They attacked higher officials that come into the city, some of the best assassins that live there killed three law enforcers only solar-cycles ago, one of them being a good friend of mine, and the trade there has been decreasing rapidly since these riots started."

Red optics flashed and narrowed as they looked Sentinel in the optics.

_What's wrong uncle? Angry that you're losing your grip on such a small city?_ Megatron thought angrily, _Maybe if you paid attention, you would see how much they suffer from being sold into slavery for you and your lackeys._

The older mech cleared his throat, before looking the stack over again and then picking up another data pad, "Other than that, there is a special match tonight in the Gladiatorial pits in Kaon, and I expect you to ready your guards—as well as yourself—," Sentinel eyed his nephew and almost smirked at the way he tensed slightly, "for departure in two joors with myself, my apprentice and councilors. Oh and bring little Soundwave along, he's getting to the age where he's old enough to watch."

This made the silver mech stand up, glaring at the prime and he yelled at him, "Out of the question! Soundwave is only seven stellar-cycles old! He may be different from most his age, but he is too young to watch such a blood sport, it could traumatize him!"

The navy blue and orange mech tilted his helm, quirking an optic ridge, "Really now Megatron, if I recall, you were five stellar-cycles old when you saw your first match with you parents, and I took Orion to his first one when he was six. Where's the harm in letting your adopted little upstart watch it?"

One of the coal black hands clenched into a fist, as the Lord High Protector bowed his helm slightly. He couldn't let Soundwave see that, he couldn't! It was bad enough the little one seemed to have nightmares about his parents' deaths; he was NOT going to willingly add the gladiator pit fighting to the list, not if his already heavy conscience had anything to say about it!

"Ah sirs…."

Both turned to Orion, the young mech's blue optics serious and slightly concerned, "I have to agree with the Lord High Protector. Soundwave's a sensitive child, and considering he was present during the massacre of his parents, this could cause a flux if this was a killing match."

A moment of silence filled the room. But Megatron could see the small reprimand coming, before it past Sentinel's lips, and for that he only got a little angrier.

"Did I ask your opinion, Orion Pax?" the words were spit out with slight venom.

The young mech cringed back slightly, "N-no, but…"

"Then return to your work, so you are ready for the Pit match tonight!" was the snarled reply.

Blue optics shuttered a moment, before the settle slightly on Megatron for guidance when Sentinel's back was turned. The silver mech gave him a gesture of his hands pushing slightly down in a "back down now, or you'll get in deeper trouble".

Pax sighed, before returning to the data-pads.

The Leader of Cybertron turned back around, optics narrowed, "I will not endure anymore of this altercation with you Megatron. You are _going_ to come with me and Orion to the fight tonight, you are _going_ to bring your little brat along and we are _not_ going to fight any more about it. That is a direct order, Lord High Protector. Now go and make the preparations!"

The last sentence held a sense of angered finality. The silver, red and black mech looked at his uncle in slight disbelief and anger, before he took in a breath to try and keep himself from losing his temper, and forced his body to bend at the waist in a bow.

…..

He forced himself to move at an easy pace as he left the blank and uninteresting room. He kept the pace until he was out of sight and audio range, far from the office. He turned to the nearest wall, lifted his clenched fist and punched the steel wall with enough force to leave the smallest cracks and dent in it.

"Mother-fragging….No good….frag, frag, frag…." He kept cursing, as he began to bump his helm repeatedly over and over on the wall. Normally, he was above such crude language and actions, but considering what he was being subjected to, it fit his predicament and feelings right down to the last micron.

How dare the mech order him to make his child come to the arena and watch mechs maim, distort and/or kill each other to entertain their audiences!

The silver mech topped bonking his helm against the wall, and lifted his head to glare at it. If it were possible, his glare would have melted through the solid surface and leave a massive hole to the outside world.

The mech turned and leaned his back against the wall, sighing and grumbling to himself, as his rage began to dissipate and a small rush of defeat and dread swam throughout him, like space barnacles through the underground sewage systems beneath Cybertron's surface.

If he disobeyed Sentinel there would be consequences. The last time that happened things had not ended well for him. In fact it had been so bad, he couldn't look back on it without the shame, humiliation and sorrow he had suffered from it. The mech placed a hand over his spark chamber when he felt a small ache that had been there for stellar-cycles and never numbed.

Because once Sentinel Prime gave out an order, if one is insubordinate, the Prime will find a way to break them and mold them into what he wanted. No matter who it was.

Megatron heaved a sigh and began heading down to his office to begin the preparations for tonight and then look into the case of the increased uprisings and decreasing trade in Kaon.

…

**_Cybertron, Kaon_**

…

Galvatron could almost _feel_ the energon blood seep from his fingers, as he moved his battle ax to strike at his sparring partner.

For the fast four mega-cycles, the violet mech had been going through different sparring partners and training his aft off ever since this morning.

His current opponent was a young dark green, black and silver seeker mech named Deathstar. He was smaller, agile and fast. The mech also knew how to use those things to take advantage of his opponents. But unfortunately, Galvatron held an advantage with his strength and he's seen enough mechs fight Deathstar to almost understand the seekers movements.

In the small crowd of mechs watching him train, Stormflare inspected their movements with his optics studying their every move. He held his chin between his thumb and forefinger, wings hitched as he watched the two fight.

So far, the two warriors seemed to be in the same sorry state. Good, at least they were on somewhat equal footing. Galvatron's entire frame was aching right now, as he looked at the younger mech. His energy was at near depletion, his joint gave small creaks of annoyance and his optics were completely focused on his opponent's movements. Waiting to see when the next strike or blow would come.

He used one of the axes from the rack, instead of the two he had sheathed on his back. He wanted to save them for the battle tonight.

Nightshifter came up beside Stormflare, with a bored expression. The seeker mech didn't move an inch, but he looked at him from the side of his optics.

"So, you really believe that youngling's got the potential to win this tournament?" Nightshifter asked, looking at the older mech with curiosity.

The seeker returned his focus to his student's training, "I already know he does. I wouldn't have chosen to take him on as my apprentice otherwise."

There was a small snort, "Hmm….he's a bit young. Kind of like another gladiator apprentice I remember your taking on. If I recall correctly, you said the exact same thing about him, before he abandoned the rings," The gladiator grinned when he saw Galvatron's mentor's wings hike up and the way his entire frame tensed. He knew that talking about Stormflare's last apprentice was a sensitive topic.

"Silverblade had his reasons for leaving, and if I recall, he wiped your aft across the entire arena when you challenged him," Stormflare gritted out, never taking his optics off the two mechs before him.

"Hmm… and the only one to get away with it," he growled under his breath, "and did his reasons for leaving us have anything to do with the Lord Gladiator, Darkwish?"

Darkwish. The most powerful and unconquerable Gladiator in the rings. He lived in the lap of luxury from all his winnings and ruled over all the gladiatorial pits throughout Cybertron. He lived somewhere in Iacon. He was not a cruel mech. In fact, he used his earnings to help the sparklings who end up on the street when their creators died of unknown causes, find good homes and families. But he was still a gladiator and unafraid to kill to keep gaining his credits.

The seeker mech snapped his helm around to glare at Nightshifter, at the mere mention of that mech's name, "Silverblade left to get away from all this…this killing, and I don't blame him for it. He was my best and most challenging apprentice," he took a dagger from the small leather belt around his waist, and twirled it on his fingers, "And if I hear one more word about him from the likes of you, I will slit your throat open…." His optics snapped over to him, "…and send your helm to Jackhammer as a gift."

Jackhammer was Nightshifter's other rival, other than Galvatron. He was more skilled and talented than he was, but he was not sadistic with his killing. In fact, he was reserving the slow and painful death for Nightshifter himself, if they ever battle each other in the main arena.

The groundling sneered at the elder seeker, "Touchy."

"I'll show you touchy if you don't shut up," Stormflare spat. He did not want to go any further in to the topic.

Before the mech could say anything else (and dig his grave any deeper) there was a yell, and the next thing Nightshifter knew, something heavy had rammed into his abdomen and sent him flat on his back.

Stormflare raised an optic ridge, before looking at Galvatron with a slight smirk. The young mech panted for a moment, before he dropped the weapons he used to train. The violet mech reached up and rubbed at his optics, exhausted and he already felt the soft panging aches of hunger against his tanks. He needed to refuel and rest now, before the big tournament.

His mentor walked out, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You did well Galvatron," he said softly, "but you will need to work a bit more later, once you've rested and refueled," he then placed his arms around the mech's shoulders and led him towards the rec. room, "come, let us get energon. In fact Cyclonus' training session should be over by now…."

Galvatron nodded at appropriate intervals, as they moved. But in reality, he was lost in his own thoughts. He wanted to just rest up and prepare for the battle, as well as impress the higher officials that were supposed to be here tonight. In fact, he heard that the Lord High Protector was even coming to watch, though he deeply doubted it.

It was well-known in Kaon, that the Protector had an animosity towards the gladiatorial pits.

When they reached the rec. room, Galvatron, despite his low reserves, half limped, half jogged to the dispenser to get some low-grade energon into his systems.

As he refueled, he felt his thoughts return their focus to the battle tonight. If he won that tournament and the favor of the higher officials by winning, then he could very well get a ticket out of this pit-hole.

It wasn't that he didn't like being a gladiator. In fact, it brought him great pride that he was a warrior and a fighter. But it had been so long since he had been on the surface he had forgotten what it was like to be under the sun.

He sometimes found himself longing for it, to feel it's soft rays glowing upon him and warm his systems. And maybe one day, he'd bring Cyclonus outside to witness it as well and see the sky. When had that little one ever been able to see it? When was the last time Stormflare had ever seen it?

He threw back the energon, taking a long swig of it.

He would win. If it meant seeing the light again, he would win this fight.

Even if it killed him.

...

Review please!

To Optimus' Girl: I have a few favorites, but my most favorite Decepticons are Cyclonus, Galvatron and Megatorn, and my most favorite Autobots are Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4! :) Sorry this took so long! Was very, very busy!

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

Enjoy!

...

Chapter 4

...

**_Cybertron, Iacon_**

….

The first thing the little blue and white mechling heard was a soft tapping noise.

It was late in the stellar-cycle, when he exited his class with Miss Beta. He had spent most of his day learning mathematics, writing, reading and, his favorite and most preferred subject, music.

Music shared connections, emotions and got points across in poetic lyrics or without words in the lovely tones and notes. He liked it when his tutor taught him about it in the forms of some of the instruments she kept.

He looked up, looking for the soft rhythmic tapping. He found the source in the form of his favorite babysitter and closest friend, Orion Pax. He was looking out the window across from the wall. His cyan blue orbs watched Cybertron's sun shine of the city's towers, making them glitter in small white speckles.

"Big brother Orion!" Soundwave called to him, getting his attention immediately.

The sixteen stellar-cycle year old immediately smiled, before going over to the little mechling.

"Hello Soundwave," he reached out and affectionately rubbed the young one's helm.

There was a small giggle, as the sparkling nuzzled the older mech's helm purring like a cyber-kitten. Orion chuckled softly, before he kneeled down to pick up the little one and hold him in his arms.

Soundwave looked up, "Did Amma send you to come and get me?"

"Well sort of," the longer, large arms shifted the little one a bit for more comfort, "I offered to come and get you, considering he's busy at the moment," Orion smiled, "How were classes with Miss Beta this today, hmm?"

The mech's grin widened slightly, at the way Soundwave's face plates lit up as he told him about his class today. For some reason, the little one loved to tell anyone who would listen about his day in class. He'd start with his reading class and the story he was reading, then go on about the characters and what they did, then he would slip into the one about writing those large words that his tutor gave him every week to memorize and write down correctly. He was pretty good at spelling and remembering.

…..

Megatron sighed as he sat there at his desk, tapping his small stylus on the hard surface. His red optics scanned over a data pad report from one of the generals on a recent recon mission to Vos.

He had just finished calling up some of his best guards for tonight's little "show". His spark clenched in dread and anger. He didn't want to go through with this. He never wanted Soundwave to see that sort of sport at his current age, considering how much risk and danger there was.

But, as always, his uncle would not listen to his reasoning and pull rank on him.

The silver mech turned his helm back to look out his window and on to the clean, pristine city of Iacon. It's been a long, long time since he was out of the city, considering how peaceful it's been lately.

Suddenly, the door to his office opened. He looked up, prepared to see either Orion with Soundwave or Sentinel and his Councilors to make sure their plans were going accordingly. Instead, he found a young blue, yellow and white mech standing halfway through his doorway.

"….Dion," he said gently, "This is a most unexpected visit."

Dion, son of Sentinel's second in command, Highwire. One of the most dedicated students in the art of law and discipline. He hoped to be an enforcer one day and to be able to catch all the criminals and keep the peace on Cybertron. Unfortunately, he was also a renowned prankster within the tower. If only he could _show_ discipline instead of act like a hooligan at times.

It's not that he didn't like the young mech: in fact, he was a very likable character, and his pranks were harmless and sometimes outrageously funny (unless one was the receiver), but Megatron was not up for dealing with silliness right now.

He grinned, "Hey, just wondering if Orion stopped by, sir."

Megatron raised an optic ridge in slight suspicion, "No he has not. He is currently picking up Soundwave from Miss Beta. We have…..an outing this evening…."

"You mean that big Gladiatorial match tonight?"

There was a small flinch in the older mech's posture when the younger mech said "gladiatorial", but he nodded in confirmation. He looked back down at his data-pads, hoping the young mech would take a hint and leave. The Lord High Protector was not in the mood to chat.

He was so focused on the pads and ignoring Dion's presence, he didn't see the small object being placed on his desk.

…..

They were going down the corridor to Megatron's office, and Soundwave was just about to go into his progress on math today. Surprisingly, it was the little mech's favorite subject.

"…then Miss Beta taught me how to—!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGRHHHHHH!"

Pax yelled, jumping about three feet in the air in surprise and shock. Soundwave yelped, cut off in the middle of his sentence, as he leaned against Orion in slight shock. Whoever had screeched like that obviously was very enraged as of this moment. Then, they heard the sound of pedes running down the corridor towards them, sharply striking the ground.

Orion shuttered his optics when he saw his best friend, Dion, come running down the corridor towards them, a look of pure panic on his face plates.

He stopped in front of Pax, and put his hands together in a begging motion, "Please Paxy, hide me! Hide me right now!"

"Dion…?" Orion raised an optic ridge at him.

"_Please!_" the yellow and blue mech hissed, optics wide and begging.

There was a sudden roar from Megatron's office that rang out through the corridor, "**_DION!_**"

Soundwave flinched, reaching up to cover his audios, one of his amber optic twitching in slight irritation. The blue and red mech eyed Dion, who squeaked in fear.

Before he could make a break for it, Orion grabbed him by the collar of his armor, making sure he did not move from his spot. He knew Dion tended to pull pranks on the higher-ups when they least expect it. Pit, he was sometimes roped into helping when he wasn't busy with his studies as Sentinel Prime's apprentice. But Dion also knew there were those who were not very tolerable when it came to being pranked, and would most likely attempt to rip him to pieces.

Megatron was one of those mechs that should never, ever be pranked.

Though Pax pitied his friend somewhat, he was not about to let him go without punishment: considering the Lord High Protector's mood form earlier, it was better to be caught now and deal with the punishment, instead of only prolong it and make him angrier.

The silver mech turned a corner, optic narrowed, denta bared and rage practically seething from his entire being. His face plates were covered in a lovely shade of spring lavender purple.

Dion yelled as Megatron grabbed him from the back of his helm and turned him round to face him. The paint dripped from the silver mech's face plates and on to his own paint. Soundwave tilted his helm in slight curiosity as to why his Amma had paint on his face plates.

"My office. Now," his voice held no room for argument. He nodded to Orion, "Pax, take Soundwave back to my quarters."

The blue and red mech nodded, before giving Dion an apologetic look. He knew not to get in the way of an angry Megatron, even if it was for a small prank. As he turned to leave, Soundwave looked over his shoulder and watched as Megatron dragged the younger mech back to his office for reprimand.

….

Seven megacycles went by, before Megatron returned to his quarters. After rebuking and chastising Dion for the prank and sending him off with a four breems of cleaning up the barracks, the silver mech had spent more time going over some of the information of some recon missions in other areas of Cybertron.

He needed to get ready for the match tonight, starting with cleaning the rest of the paint off, and getting Soundwave all set.

The little one was on the couch. His pedes were over the back of it, and he was hanging upside down, with a data-pad in his small hands. The sight caused the silver mech to crack a smile.

When the door closed, Soundwave looked away from the data-pad and looked at his Amma.

"Amma, you're still purple," he giggled.

The silver mech froze, before raising an optic ridge at the youngling, "Am I now? Well, I better get back to my normal color, shouldn't I?"

Soundwave lifted his upper body up to look at his Amma curiously. Something told him his Amma wasn't happy with something: it was the way he glare at the wall when the little one wasn't looking, how lip quirked in the smallest of snarls, and his entire body was unusually tense.

"Amma?"

The silver mech looked over, just about to enter his personal washracks to get this Primus-awful paint and then smiled, trying to keep himself calm "Yes Wave?"

"Why are you so mad?"

By some miracle, he kept himself from clenching his jaw and gritting his denta together when he answered, "I'm…a little upset with Uncle Sentinel right now. But it doesn't really matter, because you and I are going out to…accompany him and Orion," he rolled his should struts in order to keep himself from tensing up too much, "and it's not healthy to stay angry for a long amount of time." _No matter how much I want to strangle that fragger!_ He mental finished.

Soundwave shuttered his optics, "Oh….where are we going?"

"….it's….." he slumped slightly, "…it's the gladiatorial pits…"

The little one stared at his adopted creator, his little optics widening slightly. His dead parents once told him about the gladiator pits when he was younger and that he should never, ever go anywhere near them. But that was then, and he was now under the protection of Megatron. He somehow knew he would be safe, no matter where he went, as long as he was with his Amma.

"….okay…" he said softly, "….I hear it's bad down there…."

Megatron didn't look at Soundwave. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

"Sparkling, bad doesn't even begin to describe that place…" he whispered, his red optics burning with a strange fire in them.

The silver mech entered the other room to remove that purple paint from his person, without another word.

….

**_Cybertron, Kaon_**

….

His quarters were illuminates by a small, hand-made energon lantern. By sparking over a small bit of unstable energon within a containment unit, he created a small light to help him through the darkness.

In front of him, watched with rapt fascination, was Cyclonus. He watched the gladiator sharpening his axes and spears for the upcoming match. The soft, metallic whistle of the metal weapons left a small echo, along with the soft crackle of the flames from the energon lamp.

Galvatron sighed, as he placed his weapon down on his berth, and then rubbed at his sore, calloused hands. He's been in here sharpening his weapons for the match for about two mega-cycles, and he could feel the joints in his digits begin to ache.

He didn't mind Stormflare's little one watching him, so long as he didn't interrupt him. He picked up his spear, running one of his digit over the tip. A small bead of energon blood formed and slowly dripped down from his fingertip down his whole servo.

The gladiator looked at Cyclonus, and smirked, "You see this Cyc?" the little one perked up at attention, and stared at the small injury, "This is how you know your weapons are ready. When sharpened perfectly, it only takes the lightest pressure to make your opponent bleed. Remember this when you get your weapons one day…"_ for they are the only things that can keep you out of death's clutches in a match,_ the last part he mentally stated. Gently, he placed the spear in the small sheath on his back.

Picking his axes, he gave them a small twirl around, before placing them crossed over his spear.

The little seeker stood up immediately when the elder mech did. Galvatron reached up and turned a small nob on the top of his small lantern and immediately, the small source of light vanished in a small flicker. All that remained was the soft, violet glow of the energon veins going through the walls of the gladiator arena.

The first place he was headed to was the mess hall, to get the high-grade energon. Only gladiators about to go into a match drank from energon in there. High-grade, when not over-consumed and was refined correctly, gave the gladiators more strength and an extra boost of energy. Just one cube was enough to help them last throughout an entire match.

But before he entered the mess hall, the older mech turned to Cyclonus, who stopped a few steps away from him.

"Cyc," his tone was firm, "I want you to go find your father. He should be in the arena, getting the stands and the ring ready."

The young mechling shuttered his small, ruby optics, before protesting, "But Gladiator Galvatron, I-I want to help you prepare for the big match tonight!"

A small smile formed on the older mech's lips, before he reached out to caress the young one's helm, "You're helping me more, by helping your father get the arena ready. Once it's ready, it will make movement easier. Besides, there's nothing left for me to do, but refuel right now, so really there's nothing for you to do," he tapped Cyclonus lightly on the helm, "not to mention, I don't want my favorite apprentice get beat up by these older gladiators," he pointed back into the mess hall, "otherwise, whose going to cheer me on?"

He smirked when Cyclonus gave a small smile while his face plates become a light shade of purple.

Then he frowned, looking a little worried, "….are you going to leave the ring after this…?"

The smile on the gladiator's face plates disappeared at the child's question. He took in a deep intake and sighed.

"If I leave a good impression on those higher classed mechs, who knows?" he shrugged. He noticed the way Cyclonus slouched, "Hey, come on, it's not that bad. If I get out, I promise to try and keep in contact as best I can," the mech knelt down, his aft resting on the heels of his pedes, and placed a finger under the little one's chin to make him look up at him. He gave him a smile, "And maybe I'll come back and show you where I'm living, so you can have a day without worrying about what those brats think of you. How does that sound?" the older mech looked at him, waiting for an answer. The reply was an immediate hug around the neck for the little one.

A bit startled Galvatron's red optics widened slightly. His entire body tensed for a moment, not used to this sort of physical contact. Slowly, he forced his body to relax and then held the little mechling firmly when he heard a small sniff. He knew this wasn't easy for a child, especially one like Cyc, who admired him. It was the fact that Galvatron could leave them if he won or lost. It was something that the gladiator, his friends and all that knew him had to live with, a risk that they may never see each other again until they go to the Well of Allsparks.

He heard a few more sniffs, before patting the child on the back, giving a quick warning glare to some of the gladiators staring at them.

"Cyclonus, come now," he pulled back to look the child in the face plates, "This is not how a future gladiator is supposed to act, now is it?" he flicked the pinprick tears that had started to fall down Cyc's face plates, "Gladiators do not cry where everyone can see them, understood? Besides, crying doesn't change anything," he placed a hand on the mechling's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, "Now, I can't promise that I'll win tonight, nor can I promise I'll come out alive. All I can promise is that the only way I'm going down, is fighting down to my final intake," he patted the child's shoulder.

Cyclonus looked at the older gladiator, before nodding in understanding.

"Good mechling, now go find your father and get ready for the match of your life," Galvatron smirked, giving another playful tap to the child's helm, "You'll see me after the match," _even if it's on the way to the morgue, on a stretcher. _

…

A few more mega-cycles went, before the crowds of spectators began to arrive.

Kaon became a bustling city as the night fell. Mechs and femmes of every class made their way in, a mix of excited, nervous and indifferent face plates everywhere. Younglings stood beside their creators, their optics bright with curiosity and euphoria at witnessing a match. Sparklings, barely five stellar-cycles old, walked with their parents squealing in glee at being able to witness this.

Many hurried to try and get in for a good seat, eager to sit and watch the upcoming match.

None paid heed to the anger that would have melted through six tone of electrum that radiated off a certain silver mech, with a red cloak over his shoulders, softly draped down to the back of his pedes.

Megatron stood beside Sentinel, while Soundwave stood on the other side of him, holding his hand tightly. He could almost feel the shaking anxiety coming off his adopted creation, as they got closer to the entrance. Soundwave was not used to being in such a huge crowd, so it was only normal that he was very, very apprehensive about it. Orion stood beside Sentinel, watching with a small sense of awe at the large crowds.

Around them, firm and attentive, were the guards that Megatron had formed together to protect them should there be any ill-will towards them from the crowd. Not that the Lord High Protector could truly blame the lower classes for hating them. It was mostly their fault that they were treated like dirt, but alas Megatron couldn't really do anything about it. It was not in his place to do take care of them, no, his business was in the military and political matters and that was it.

Or at least, that's what he was told to believe.

Altogether, there were six guards, two in front, two behind them, and one on each side. They moved in tempo with each other, never skipping a beat, like they were made to be in sync with each other.

"Amma…"

Megatron looked down at his small companion, noticing that Soundwave was tugging on him and biting his bottom lip. The silver mech immediately got to his knees so he was eye level with the little one.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly, reaching up to caress his face plates affectionately.

Soundwave gave a small whimper, "That mech is looking at me weird…." He pointed a black, purple and silver mech, looking at them with cold blue optics.

Megatron narrowed his optics warningly and angrily at the mech's lecherous smirk. He stood up, and then placed a hand on the side of the little mechling's helm and gently nudges him so he had a small haven under his crimson cloak.

"Stay close to me and you'll be fine…" he said gently, but his optics were still glaring at the mech.

If there was one thing to be sure of in Kaon, it was that it had its greatest share of criminals. Especially those that targeted the little ones. If one was not cautious, then they could end up dead or worse.

He was nudged in the side. Looking up, Sentinel motioned him to go forwards with a curt nod towards the entrance. Megatron tensed, before taking Soundwave's hand again and walking with the Prime and Orion Pax into the rings.

Orion tilted his helm back a few times to make sure Soundwave was doing okay. He really hated that they had brought him here, and seeing the little mech nervous and even scared, it broke his spark a little. But once Sentinel made up his mind, there was absolutely no changing it. He hoped that when he became Prime, he'd be able to ban small children from watching the fights.

As they got closer to the entrance, there were a few mechs and femmes standing there, with weapons on their backs: a few seekers, a shuttle, some grounders and a few triple-changers. Megatron looked at them a moment, before looking away when he made optic-contact with one of them: a groundling mech with almond shaped purple optics that was dark green, with soft hints of silver and white.

He refused to look up again, even as Sentinel paid for their entry to the mech in charge of admission. As soon as they were inside, Megatron picked up Soundwave and carried him towards the stands where there was a special booth reserved for higher-ups.

The path to the arena was like a large tunnel from the mines with small lanterns to lead the way. Bright, purple streams of purple met and separated all around it, creating small crack like designs in the walls and ceilings. Soundwave stared at them, trying to find a certain pattern to follow, but everything about the pattern was mismatched and chaotic.

Unfortunately, his study of them ended, as the climbed a small flight of stairs, and then entered the brightly lit gladiatorial arena.

Megatron looked around shuttering his optics to get used to the brightness. Once they settled, he looked around at the crowds below, red optics narrowed slightly in indifference to hide the feeling of anger and sadness.

Already, there were crowds of mechs and femmes below on the front row, and the soft echoing sounds of conversation, gossip and argument. A small sense of familiarity settled in the silver mech as he watched the crowds, knowing that at any moment they would be cheering or jeering at the mechs down below.

Immediately, he quashed it, not wanting to go down that route of thinking.

He turned to his guards, once they were seated.

"I want two guards at the entrance to this booth. The four that remain, stand at each corner of this section, and keep a look out for anything suspicious," Megatron said softly to the largest mech of the guards, a broad black, gold and white mech.

Said mech nodded, "It shall be done Lord High Protector."

"Thank you, Head Guard Wildhornet," he said softly, with a smile at one of his most trusted soldiers, before sitting down beside Sentinel, hands folded in his lap.

He's known Wildhornet since he was barely out of his youngling years. He was a good fellow and someone he could count on, which as rare for the silver mech.

He turned his attention to the empty rings, his smile morphed into a grimace. He felt Soundwave hold his arm and rest his helm against it. Instantly, the adult mech caressed his adopted son's helm, in order to reassure and calm him.

He overheard Sentinel speaking to Orion, and looked with his optics only at the Prime, listening.

"….and you see that arc there is made of the purest of electrum. It is said that the great Gladiator, Fliptrick put it there himself. And over there, the openings were used to once release creatures from other planets, bred and trained to fight the gladiators, until my brother, Silversun banned them…"

Megatron immediately tuned out the rest of what Sentinel Prime said about the former Lord High Protector. He didn't want to hear anything about his father, especially not now when his temper was already strained to the point of snapping.

It was no secret that Sentinel and Silversun held hatred towards each other: he remembered being witness to some of the fights they had when he was only five stellar-cycles old.

Although sadly, he and his father didn't have a very good relationship either. He loved his father once, but ever since that spark-breaking event that happened in their family before his parents died…it created an unfixable rift.

Megatron took in deep breath, and pushed all thoughts of the past out of his processor. And for once, he actually wished they'd get this fight going and over with, so he and his adopted creation could return home where it was safe.

…..

The gladiators gathered. Each one was stationed in a different position to enter the rings. Each one held a medic, in case their assigned gladiator needed a quick energy boost or they had lost in the match and needed to have a quick repair done. If they died, then the medic had to wait till the match ended to go out and get the corpse to prepare for the morgue.

When Galvatron entered the place he was positioned at, he stared at the medic for a moment, with a raised optics ridge. It was a young black and grey mech, barely out of his youngling years it seemed. There was a red visor over his optics, and he swallowed nervously.

The violet mech raised an optic ridge at him. He didn't know this mech, and it was better that way if they didn't know each other. He didn't want anyone else's pain to weigh on his conscience if he should fall in the rings one day.

He stood at the barred entrance to the ring where he would battle eleven other contestants. Some would be enemies, other friends, and the rest just inexperienced apprentices he didn't get to know, and nor did he want to. The violet mech off-lined his optics a moment to concentrate.

In the battle for victory, there were no friends or allies. The only thing that mattered was survival. He had to force back any doubts or worries about harming someone he knew and cared about, for they were meaningless now. There was only battle and trying to survive the clash of opponents, no more, no less.

No bot ever said the life of a gladiator was easy. And whoever did believe so was an idiot.

Galvatron snapped his optics on-line when the announcer's voice came on-line.

_"Femmes and Gentle-mechs, this is your speaker, Sureshock, up and ready for the greatest match of your existence! And it is a great honor as always to have the Prime come and watch our lovely matches. And it appears the Lord High Protector has decided to come out and watch as well! Never before have we had the honor of having twelve of Kaon's greatest fighters battle each other to the death! Are you ready to meet 'em?"_

The cheers of excitement from the crowds out there almost caused Galvy to flinch at the sudden volume of it.

He rolled his optics when Sureshock's voice rung over them. He's met the mech a few times, and he was actually quite annoying in his opinion. Then again, he did like to think he was above them, because his social status was higher.

_"Well then, first up, one of the highly respected and most glorious gladiator to make his debut, I give you Goldspear!"_

Galvatron shook his helm. Goldspear was not a bright gladiator, but he had an ego the size of Primus' body. He also was a show off who seemed to turn tail when things got to rough. He wondered how many credits he paid Sureshock for those lovely compliments over the speaker.

_"Now, known as the Diva of Doom, and one of the most skilled sword-femmes in Kaon, everyone give a big cheer for Darkclaw!" _

Now there was an opponent who could give Galvatron a run for his energon. Quick and swift, this femme was a force to be reckoned with and the only weak spot on her was her temper. She was difficult, but not undefeatable.

If he was careful, he could beat her.

He stood and studied his opponents, as Sureshock called them out. He knew them, he had once trained with them when he come to the pits, he practically grew with them and a few he had learned to respect and get along with over the stellar-cycles he's been here.

He already looked at the ten out of the twelve opponents he would get to fight.

_"Everyone, let me introduce to you, the undefeated gladiator, well known as the Surgeon of the Rings, the Demon of the blades and the most well-known of all famous gladiators, Nightshifter!"_

Galvatron growled at the crowd's wild cheers towards that particular mech. He shook his helm from side to side. These mechs and femmes were sick if they admired that mech's fighting style, but then again, they probably were sick for even wanting to watch this in the first place.

_"And now, we are down to our final competitor. Well known throughout the rings for his skill, one of the youngest mechs to enter the rings at the mere age of sixteen stellar-cycles and build his reputation as one of the toughest and most ruthless gladiators in existence for the past One and a half deca-cycles, I introduce to you…" _

The bars to Galvatron's tunnel opened, and he slowly walked towards the opening. He stepped out into the rings, keeping himself indifferent and calm to the mechs and femmes all around him.

_"Gladiator Galvatron!"_

He was able to keep himself from jumping out of his armor at the sudden roar from the crowd around him. He stopped with the others, created a small circle at the center of their battlefield. Each gladiator looked at each other, unsheathing their weapons. Galvatron took out his spear and held it straight, entire body slightly tensed, but ready for movement.

No one dared move, until the Prime had spoken and Sureshock had given the signal.

He and the others turned to look at the Prime, a spotlight shining on him as he stood to in his full glory.

"My dear citizens and friends of Cybertron, tonight, I am honored to be present to watch these great warriors fight, for there is more at stake than just their honor and lives," his attention turned to the twelve of them, "tonight, if one of you stands that victor against eleven of the others, I will grant you a home and position in Iacon as well as your freedom," the mech clasped his hands together, "Know that those who fall in tonight's mass, I bless your sparks to the matrix for your brave sacrifices…"

Galvatron heard a faint gulp form behind him, and he eyed Goldspear with a quirked optic ridge.

"Now, my Lord High Protector Megatron would like to say something," Sentinel sat down back in the booth he was in.

And a silver, red and black mech with a red cloak was standing in his place. He looked over them, red optics narrowed with a small gleam radiating off it. And for a moment, it felt like he could see through each and every one of them. A small shiver ran down Galvatron's spine at the piercing gaze from the mech standing there.

The silver mech took in a deep intake, "As the Prime stated, it is an honor. An honor to watch the greatest warriors fight to the death and to see who will be the greatest one of all. This battle tonight will confirm the fate of one individual who has proven themselves to us. I ask that you all fight honorably and fairly," the silver mech took two fingers and placed them over his spark chamber in a sign of respect, "Til all are one."

Galvatron found himself still watching the silver mech return to his seat. Immediately, he snapped himself out of it and tried to focus on the battle ahead. The gladiators repeated the gesture, but did it silently, before the each turned to each other.

They each looked at each other distrustfully and respectfully at the same time.

_"All right Gladiators. At the sound of the bell, you may begin!"_ Sureshock called out to them.

The violet mech loosened his muscles, so they wouldn't become strained in the fight.

_"Weapons up!"_

Like a whip, each gladiator had their weapons up in a defensive position.

His spear was out, his body sideways, but his face turned towards them, legs parted for balance, and optics focused.

_"On your mark…."_

They all waited for the starting signal, never taking their optics of each other.

And echoing ringing spread out through the arena, indicating the beginning of the fight for survival.

...

Who else though Dion was being an idiot and feels sorry for little Cyc?

Review please!

To Optimus' Girl: I have the sequel to "Three Little Words" up. It's called "Take My Spark". I would love to hear some reviews from you in case you didn't know.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5, and once again, I is so sorry this a took a while, but it's been a stressful two weeks!

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

Enjoy!

...

Chapter 5

...

They moved quickly. All at once, the gladiators moved to face whichever opponent got into vision clear enough for them to aim their weapons.

From atop his father's shoulders, Cyclonus watched, biting the bottom of his lip plate from the third row of the arena's stands. He was shaking slightly from both excitement and anxiety as he watched Galvatron moving at one of the older gladiators, Blackwind.

It was a bit hard to keep track of their movements. His optics watched with complete attention and need to study their movements. He felt his father take his small servo in his own, and caress over the little one's smaller knuckles.

His own optics focused on the battle, but not on his student. He kept them on the opponents his pupil had to face and defeat in order to win this battle. After hearing that little speech from the Prime, Stormflare felt a small bit of resentment fill his spark.

Did Sentinel even know the first thing about Gladiatorial honor? Did he know that nowadays there was no room for sympathy, justice or valor for the rings anymore? Did that blasted Prime even care that a majority of the mechs and femmes down here were poor, hungry and fighting only for the credits and home?

The seeker mech flicked his wings before looking up at his son.

"Cyclonus, are you paying attention?" he asked, trying to speak over the crowd.

Cyclonus nodded, "Uh-huh."

He remained silent for a moment, noticing how Darkclaw made a misstep as she attempted to dodge Goldspear's mace. Good thing she dodged the club and it missed her helm by a mere millimeter. She rolled away, with a small yell.

Stormflare looked another way, and settled his optics on his pupil as Galvatron head butted his opponent, spear blocking the two twin black swords of his opponent. The violet mech brought his spear down through Blackwind's knee, almost completely severing it. The black, silver and grey mech gave a silent scream, once the spear was removed. Stormflare watched, his entire body slack, unflinching, with his attention span unwavering.

That spot was a particularly weak point to stab: it would render Blackwind useless to stand, force him to yield to Galvatron and have him taken away for repairs. Galvatron turned, red optics focused and ready for the next opponent. It helped him avoid killing the elder gladiator and because of that, the old seeker mech felt a small bit of pride for his apprentice. He admired that Galvatron only killed when he had to and was able to find loopholes so he wouldn't have to kill his enemies. Unless he was ordered to, then it was an entirely different situation.

No one disobeyed the higher-ups when they demanded that a certain gladiator die, but those cases were rare.

…

Sentinel watched the gladiators below, his face plates neutral, bright cyan optic dull like a mech who was getting bored before the fight had barely started. He rested side of his helm on his palm, casting a quick side glance at his nephew Megatron.

He kept himself from smirking at the way the silver mech was so tense and looked ready to break the nearest object that came at him. It brought him some pleasure knowing he was causing his nephew to be so uneasy, angry and uncomfortable. It was rare these days to get such a reaction from Megatron. Ever since Sentinel's younger brother, and the former Lord High Protector, Silversun, deactivated, Megatron seemed to become more controlled and less emotional around those he worked with.

He should make him come to the rings more often, if it brought out this reaction from the silver, red and black mech.

The Prime turned to his apprentice, and a sliver of concern crept into his spark when he saw that Orion looked a little squeamish and sickly. Like he was about to purge his energon right from his tanks at any moment.

The Prime tapped his apprentice's hand, "Orion, this is not how a future Prime should look in the public of his people."

Pax looked at him, his optics widened slightly as if he saw two other heads grow from Sentinel's shoulders. Then he slumped before he tilted his helm back and made a loud swallowing sound, like he was trying to hold something down.

"There's a good lad," he patted the young mech's shoulder.

He then caught Megatron casting a small side glare. He answered it with a smirk.

"What? We can't ruin the image of the Prime's apprentice, now can we? Primes must always stay in control, and I don't want my underlings believing I am a poor teacher," he explained.

Megatron grumbled, "It's not like it's the first time a young mech's purged his tanks at these things," the silver mech placed a hand over Soundwave's visor, when that dark swords-femme, Darkclaw, was bludgeoned and beaten to death by that bright yellow and black, sharp-looking mech named Goldspear.

Goldspear kept beating her with his mace, until energon bled from the cracks in her helm, and her entire body became dark grey.

Megatron felt his body shake slightly, as he removed his hand from Soundwave's face plates and watched the battle. He hoped any other deaths in this match wouldn't be so gruesome, for his son's sake.

His red optics settled on the violet mech with the spear. Quirking an optic ridge, he watched as the mech battled two seeker mechs, one white, and the other black. For some reason, the purple mech was moving quickly and nearly effortlessly. It was like he was a pliable, smooth creature capable of the most incredible and near impossible feats.

The silver mech clasped his dark servos together, his elbows resting on the arm rests of his seat and chin resting on his knuckles. He didn't know why, but he couldn't take his optics off this particular gladiator. For the first time in a while, he was intrigued.

….

Galvatron dodged, lunged, attacked and blocked the seeker twins, Onyx and Calcite. These two mechs, despite the fact that if they fought together to take down their enemies and they both survived as the remaining two warriors they would have to fight and kill or cripple each other in the end.

The purple mech used his spear and disengage Onyx's sword, before snap kicking the mech in the face plates. The black seeker fell flat on his wings, nearly bending one of them in the process. Calcite moved, aiming his hammer weapon at Galvatron's helm. The purple mech used his spear to stop the hammer from coming down on top of him. It forced him to get into a crouched position. He kept his arms up, as Calcite kept applying as much pressure as his body allowed.

"Grrrr….!" Galvatron growled, his muscle cables aching and his arms shaking as more pressure was applied with each growing moment.

From the corner of his optics, he watched as Onyx got up, and brushed himself off. Then, there was a shout, making Galvatron look over. He yelped when he saw a large green, purple and black mech run at him, a large sword in hand. Galvatron narrowed his optics, looking both ways, as Onyx prepared to attack as well. Calcite kept pushing and pushing down on him.

The three mechs were closing in on him.

_Time this right, time this right, time this right… _he mentally said to himself, optics off-lined for a second to focus.

The running pedes grew louder as they struck the ground to get closer to him.

His optics flashed on-line, as Onyx and Bonecrusher both prepared to bring their blades down on him.

….

Stormflare's optics widened slightly, as his apprentice snap kicked Calcite in the chin, knocking the hammer from his hand, stabbed right through the white mech's upper thigh, nearly cutting it off, and then slid out from under the seeker through his legs, as the two swords of Onyx and Bonecrusher went through each other's abdomens, one cracking through the ebony seeker's cockpit. The hammer only hit ground, as the bright, white seeker, fell on his back screeching like some wild animal.

He watched the violet mech turn to the three mechs that almost came close to killing and he had just narrowly escaped from letting them do so.

Onyx and Bonecrusher both sounded like they were choking on energon, as they stared at each other in shock and slight fear. Purple fluid dripped from the black seeker's bottom lip plate as the large groundling's blade was pulled out of his cockpit.

The mentor narrowed his optics when Galvatron turned to the crowd, red optics searching for him. The two mechs made eye contact, before Stormflare gave a curt nod to Galvatron of slight, bitter approval. So far, Galvatron has only had to use his spear, his battle axes still sheathed safely.

There were claps and cheers from the crowd around them.

Then, the elder turned his helm in the direction of a loud, bellow. He gritted his denta behind his lip plates when he saw Nightshifter jab his ever faithful blade through the spark of another mech, off-lining him. The mech's entire body was covered in the life fluids of his opponents that he had slaughtered. At his feet laid three mechs and two femmes. Amongst those three mechs was Goldspear, his club broken in half and body greyed out, his optics still open and staring up in frozen terror at the ceiling.

Nightshifter had wide grin of glee plastered on his face plates, like a sparkling who had just received new toys. As he turned to Galvatron, that grin morphed in a smirk, like he had just found a new one to play around with.

Stormflare silently prayed to Primus for good fortune tonight.

…..

For the first time in a while, Megatron felt somewhat…impressed. This violet gladiator so far, has only injured his opponents into uselessness, but hadn't killed them. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding it. That was actually admirable in the silver mech's opinion.

At least it showed that mechs had a conscience.

There was a poke on his arm. Megatron turned to look down at his little adopted son. Soundwave tilted his helm in curiosity.

"Do you like that purple mech Amma?" he asked softly.

The suddenness of the question made the silver mech shutter his optics and stare at the little one. After a moment of thinking, he tilted his helm, "I don't know that mech Soundwave, so I can't really answer that question."

Soundwave sometimes tended to ask the older mech if he liked a certain strange mech or femme, when it seemed the silver mech didn't scowl or glare at them, like he did with the Councilors in Iacon

"Oh," was the reply. The little one rested the side of his face plates on his knuckle, humming in thought. He stayed in that position for the next few minutes, completely pensive and almost unaware of the world.

Then he looked up and smiled, "Maybe you should talk to him after the battle and see if you like him! I think you will, he seems okay!"

Megatron felt his face plates warm up in a small blush. Another thing Soundwave seemed to take interest in was trying to get his Amma to meet said person and speak with them to see if he liked them legitimately.

He topped his digits against the arm rest, "Ah….Soundwave, I'm afraid that may not be possible…."

"Why?"

The silver mech gave a small cough, "Because….um….well….." Megatron eyes Sentinel to make sure he was distracted, before leaning down to Soundwave to whisper, "Because Mr. Snooty Prime there is an impatient meanie and if he doesn't go home after naming the champion and get some recharge, he'll be very cranky in the morning."

"You mean, like a sparkling? Mr. Wildhornet's sparkling did that too…." Soundwave pointed out.

Megatron cracked a grin at that, "Exactly."

The grin disappeared, when he saw his little one slump, with a heavy sigh. He rubbed the little one's helm to try and comfort him a little.

"Maybe if there's time afterwards, we'll go see him," the little one immediately perked up, "But I make no promises," Megatron warned him.

Soundwave slumped again, but he nodded in understanding. When his Amma said he wouldn't make it a promise, it most likely wouldn't happen.

With another small affectionate pat to Wave's helm, Megatron turned his attention back to the two remaining gladiators. The others were either seriously injured or dead. But the difference was, that Megatron was giving his full attention to the purple mech and Nightshifter.

He knew Nightshifter from a while back. In fact, he knew him enough to despise him and it worried him just a bit that the mech would win.

As Megatron watched, he didn't realize that his little one had scooted himself off his seat, and then tiptoed down the staircase.

…

Soundwave snuck past the guards when they weren't looking and snuck his way towards one of the entrances down into the lower parts of the stands.

Something his spark told him that his Amma would like the mech who was fighting. He felt that if they just talked, they would get along. Even though Megatron had the little one to raise, little Soundwave had no doubt that his adopted creator was lonely for an adult friend.

The only friends he knew his Amma had that were adults, was Orion Pax and Alpha Trion, but those two mechs were always so busy, and Megatron tended to get so caught up in his work….

The little mech walked down the steps into the lower part of the arena, once he was sure no one would see him enter. The first thing he came into contact with was a whole bunch of pedes of the adults. He moved his way through to get to the bottom at the front. He planned to yell to the gladiator and get his attention, and then arrange for that mech and his Amma to meet after the fight.

What Soundwave didn't calculate was the steepness of the steps leading downwards and the adults around him only made it difficult to go down. Taking in a deep intake, that swelled his body with determination, he made his way through.

He would prevail for his Amma's sake!

…..

Galvatron twirled his spear a moment, as he and Nightshifter circled each other. For a moment, it was a like the sound and overwhelming excitement of the crowd had decreased tenfold. All that was in focus was Nightshifter.

The mechs had had injured were already brought in and were getting repaired for another match for another time. As for the dead, they were already being carried out and to the morgue, if anyone with enough credits paid for it, or the incinerator, to be forgotten from existence.

He and Nightshifter tensed, ready to run at each other and fight, seeing who would be the first to make a move.

The darker mech set a relaxed pace, blade down by his side, almost touching the ground. His confidence in his skills was at an all-time high, simply inflating his ego. Galvatron could tell by his stance alone that his opponent believed he would win this match easily. He mentally rolled his optics: like he'd ever make it easy for the one mech he abhorred more than anything.

Besides, the confidence could be used to his advantage. Let the opponent's pride raise high enough, and said opponent starts to get sloppy or careless.

"So, little fighter…."

Galvatron felt his body tighten from the core of his spark, rippling out to his arms, and legs like a small tremor from the inside out. That disgustingly smug voice mixed with that stupid, insulting nickname set off a small flickering flame.

Nightshifter snorted at the other fighter's tension, "….are you prepared to die?"

"Like I would ever give you the satisfaction of killing me. I'd sooner join Unicron down in the pits," Galvatron spat.

"Oh you will join the pits, little fighter…..you most certainly will…." The older mech got into a battle stance.

The younger mech followed suit, optics narrowed dangerously, as his spear gleam with the dried energon of his last rival.

With that manic grin still on his face plates, Nightshifter moved at the violet gladiator, with a snarl. Galvatron roared, running at the opposing mech before him. And, one thought ran through their processors: only one of them would be the victor and with that thought, they ran at each other, with a swelling feeling of determination filling their sparks and driving them towards each other.

_I swear, if I do not beat Nightshifter tonight, I will never forgive myself, even if death should take me!_

That was the only thought in Galvatron's processor, as his spear met with the electrum metal of the opposing blade.

...

To Be Continued...

...

OOOOH! Cliffy!

Review please!

To Optimus' Girl: You'll have to wait and see in "Defying Fate", I might add that in there. (winks)


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6, fight!

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

warning: some violence.

Enjoy!

...

Chapter 6

...

The crowd's excitement seemed to seep into Soundwave, as he reached the front of it all. It was much different from being up in the stands with his Amma and the Prime. But he was nervous as well, as he stood there, barely able to put his arms over the railing.

His crimson visor flashed in interest at the gleam from a sword, as it met the iron handle of the spear, with a resounding clang, followed by growls and grunts from the two remaining opponents on the arena. Immediately, Soundwave was pulled in a trance, as he watched the violet mech defend himself and attempted to deliver blows to the opposing mech.

Soundwave didn't notice his leg motoring as he watched, the feeling of anticipation running through him and throwing through his jumpy appendage.

He squeaked in slight fright when the blade almost slashed the purple mech's throat open. The mech with the spear did a back flip, dodging swipes from the electrum sabre, like one of those graceful Iaconian dancers Soundwave watched with Megatron when they were invited by one of the senators to go watch them. The difference between the gladiator and the dancers however is that the mech before him held a raw anger and determination, showing competitiveness and a need to conquer his opponent with each attack. So different from the dancers moving in graceful little dips and twirls of poise, with nowhere near the same passions as these two fighters had.

He was brought of his comparison of thoughts by a tap to his shoulder. The little blue and white mechling turned and then shuttered his optics in slight surprised when he saw a sparkling with two horns protruding from his helm the deeply resembled a petro-rabbit.

The stranger tilted his helm at him, before he opened his mouth plates, "I've never seen you around here."

Soundwave shuttered his optics at the strange mechling, before he replied, "I'm not from around here. I'm from another part of Cybertron."

A small, glimmer of excitement suddenly shined in the purple sparkling's red optics and he suddenly became very attentive of him.

"Really?! I've never met anyone outside of Kaon. Or outside the rings really…" his small horns gave a twitch in unison with his small wings, giving a small, nervous smile.

The blue mechling tried to hold it in so he wouldn't seem rude, but a small giggle broke past his lips at the twitch of the other mech's helm. He'd never seen a mech with horns like that before that twitched. He's never seen a seeker before either, except in history vids he looked at in the Prime's library in the tower and when his adopted carrier was going over cases about them.

It was actually really cute the way that seeker's helm tilted and when he did it only made the Iaconian mechling more fascinated.

Unfortunately, he noticed the way the other mechling slumped slightly when he giggled at the horns twitching.

"I guess you don't really care, do you?" the seeker mechling sounded miserable, like he had one of his hopes suddenly crushed.

Soundwave shuttered his optics, before he shook his helm in denial, "I actually find you pretty interesting to be honest….."

Immediately the seeker sparkling perked up at his words and he turned all his attention back to him, grinning like it was his creation day and he had gotten everything he wanted.

He was back there in a leap, taking Soundwave's servo in his, "I'm Cyclonus! The mech over there…!" he pointed at a dark blue seeker mech, with a similar helm design, but his horns were thinner and much sharper looking, and his face plate features were a harsh, "That's my father Stormflare! He's the mentor of the purple gladiator fighting right now!"

A resounding roar form the arena caught Cyc's attention long enough, to miss the small gleam in Soundwave's visor. The Iaconian mechling, smiled behind his mask at his good luck! Maybe if he talked with Cyclonus' father, his chances of getting his Amma to meet the gladiator would increase. And he really liked the seeker mechling.

He shook the seekerling's servo in return, "My name's Soundwave. It's really nice to meet you Cyclonus. Do you think, I could sit with you until the match is over? I don't really know a lot of mechs or femmes here…." He was answered with a beaming grin from the seeker, before he was yanked towards where the dark blue mech sat.

It wasn't long before the two little ones were standing on the bench, and cheering like there was no tomorrow, with Soundwave forgetting his original plan in favor of cheering the purple warrior on with his new friend.

…

Galvatron was tiring. He could feel his entire body reaching its limits, as he kept making himself fight his opponent. Everything ached, and he felt like his systems would crash at any second. It was getting harder to focus on Nightshifter, as warnings flashed before his optics.

He cursed and growled with each jab, cross hatch, kick and blow thrown his way, each movement made from spending mega-cycles training and preparing, his body on near auto-pilot.

Nightshifter, however seemed only to become more and more energetic, as he moved at his opponent. His optics held glee and excitement, as his body moved fluidly and loosely, like his insides were made of liquid.

The purple mech was starting to lose focus, as more and more warnings from his systems ran through him: his energy reserves were starting to become depleted, he was starting to cause some internal damage from the stress of his situation and his vision was starting to get blurry. He needed to keep himself going. He was not going to lose to Nightshifter…..he couldn't lose….

CLANG!

Harsh reality fell upon him in the form of a pede kicking straight to his face plate and sending him sliding across the arena's floor. He could already feel the dent in his cheek before he hit the ground, spear sliding from his hand and out of reach as this happened. The purple mech shakily began to get up, reaching up a hand to get his axes out. When he stood to his pedes, axes at the ready, he was met with another kick to his face.

Galvatron snarled, baring his fanged denta, one of his optic cracked from the second strike. He gave a bellow, before running at Nightshifter, swiping his weapons at the mech. Unfortunately, he hadn't taken the time to calculate and was charging blindly.

He was punched in the abdomen, and then his chin was introduced to Nightshifter's knee. He tasted the mix of energon and oil in his mouth from the impact as well as the pain in his mandible, before he was punched hard enough to send him flying into the wall of the arena and his axes slipped from his servos.

The crowd around him gave sympathetic winces and expressions at his predicament.

….

Megatron's full attention fell to the fight, his optics settled on the purple mech up against Nightshifter. His optics never left the violet mech, even as he was being beaten around by the other mech.

Sentinel hummed in disinterest, watching the two mechs with a bored expression, while Orion was watching with attentive and frightened, wide optics. The red, blue and silver mech had his hands over his mouth, while watching the match only because he wanted to see who would win.

It was unfair to beat an opponent in such a weakened state. It was clear that the violet mech was starting to lose energy, and it seemed clear who the champion was going to be tonight.

It would be a waste really if that mech died.

…..

Cyclonus and his new friend watched the fighting with wide optics, as Galvatron, his friend and guardian, was being beaten around by Nightshifter. Stormflare stared as his apprentice was having the slag beaten out of him and the elder mech felt a sense of familiarity.

This had happened before with some of his past apprentices and the mech felt that is would happen again. In fact, it had happened to all, save for one, of his protégés before Galvatron came along. Mainly it was because his past students couldn't handle the stress and had gotten sloppy, they were too exhausted to keep going or they were too reckless and stupid to realize when they have had enough.

His thoughts about Galvatron winning this match suddenly vanished and he watched, waiting to see if Nightshifter would deal the final blow or if Galvatron would yield.

The former was much more likely than the latter honestly.

…..

Galvatron stood up, holding his side as he did so. Primus, he felt like slag. He probably looked like it too, from the dents in his face plate and his abdomen. He staggers at his enemy, only to be smacked aside like he was nothing. He fell back on his skid plate, growling in frustration and pain. His weapons were out of reach, he was low on much needed energy, he was injured and he was fragged off.

Nightshifter grinned at his weakened state, a sense of pride and with the pleasure of a sadist shining in his optics. The mech twirled his sword in one hand, while walking towards the younger mech. He used the edge of it to tilt Galvatron's helm up to look at him. He leaned forwards with a grin that left the younger mech's armor rattle ever so slightly.

Fiery crimson optics glared at him with a raging inferno flickering behind them.

The mech licked his lip plating, "Do you yield to me, Gladiator Galvatron?"

A moment of silence filled the arena, the audience listening in to see what the response was. Then, there was a soft splat, as Galvatron spit the energon blood in his oral cavity on to Nightshifter's cheek. There was a few gasps and mumbles amongst the crowds, as the two mechs glared at each other.

The older mech sneered, before raising his sword and sheathing it within one of his enemy's limbs.

"GRRRAAAAAGGGH!" the loud growling cry escaped the younger gladiator's lips, pain and surprise filling him, as the blade was embedded into the lower half of his leg.

A harsh servo gripped his chin and made him face his opponent. Nightshifter glared at him, squeezing his jaw in between his digits. Stormflare's apprentice didn't even flinch when the enemy raised his fist.

His helm snapped to the side four times, from each blow delivered to his face plates. He could heard the mech, femmes and children around him gasping, muttering and yelling as each hit from the dark fist made contact with his cheek plate or nose.

When his enemy was finished, he felt the blade being removed from his leg. He took in shaky intake as Nightshifter pulled away, giving him some space.

Galvatron was tense, as he turned over slowly on his hands and knees. He ignored the throbbing agony in his leg where the sword had stabbed him. He tries to use only his two arms and one good leg to get up, but it felt like his systems had frozen and locked in place.

Something cold and hard pressed against the back of his neck, where his main energon lines were connected.

He remained still, as Nightshifter chuckled from above him. He felt anger at the smug tone of that chortle.

"So, any last words, little fighter?"

Galvatron felt more pain wrack his systems. He felt like he was going to collapse any moment. He needed just a moment, only a moment to recuperate or at least regain some strength, but as he thought it over, it would be in vain anyway, even if he could muster up the energy.

There was another snicker from the mech above him, "Heh. I at least had hoped you would have something to say to that little seeker brat you like to hang out with. What was his name? Aw yes, little Cyclonus…."

He stiffened at the name of the little one, his mentor's little son, still just a sparkling. What as Nightshifter getting at?

"Once you're gone, no one will be around to protect him. His father will be too busy looking for another apprentice to train, instead of looking after that little brat…" Nightshifter hummed, "Oh don't worry, I'll take good care of him. I wonder what he sounds like screaming in pain…."

Galvatron growled, as something raw, enraged and murderous formed somewhere in his tanks, slowly causing them to tighten like a thin piece of thread. And as Nightshifter spoke further, the thinner it had started to become.

"….that little bunny's gonna be all mine once you're gone. And when I'm through with him, I'll go after Stormflare and kill him as well. A pity you won't be there to watch…." Nightshifter raised his blade, "I'll be sure to give your head to the little bunny, before I break him…."

The thread within Galvatron's core snapped with an echoing, inner roar that quaked through him and filled him to the brim.

The sword was brought downwards, aiming for his neck. But it never made it there.

A loud, metallic slapping noise rang out across the entire arena, silencing anyone and everyone spectating them.

Galvatron used one arm and his uninjured leg to balance himself, as he held Nightshifter's sword in his arm. His body shook, but this time, it wasn't just from pain.

In a sudden burst of unbridled rage, he stood up with a snarl, forcing Nightshifter to step backwards. He ignored how his bad leg protested in the form of a deep ache, and stood up to his full height. The mech suddenly yanked the mech forwards and backhanded him hard enough to make him let go of the weapon and stumble back a few feet away.

The purple mech didn't give him time to react.

It was like his entire body was on auto-pilot. His anger was fueling it to moved, and the abhorrence he held for Nightshifter drove him to deliver blows to anywhere he could reach. Instead of feeling the agonizing strain of exhausted systems that was only moments before, Galvatron felt numbness and a fierce sense of protective, brotherly instinct that was driving him at Nightshifter.

He would not, no matter what, let anyone touch that seekerlet the way Nightshifter implied. He was not going to die with that threat hanging around his teacher and his teacher's son. Even if he did die while protecting those two, he would not go out without taking the mech with him.

He owed those two for saving him from the streets and giving him a purpose and a reason to fight. They were his only family.

Nightshifter didn't know what hit him. One moment he was about to win the match, now he was being beaten and attacked by the mech he had almost killed. He was given no reaction time, no mercy, as he was hit, kicked, and assaulted from different angles. Apparently, he had gotten under Galvatron's armor a little too deep and instead of making the mech more miserable before dying, he had just given him an emotion energy boost.

His optics cracked, and he shrieked in pain, as Galvatron used the sword that had once belonged to the older mech, and stabbed his shoulder while forcing the blade into the wall behind him. He hadn't even realized he had been backed into the wall, until he was stabbed.

The younger gladiator pinned his free arm with his hand and used the other to grab his throat.

"Do you yield, Nightshifter?" his voice was soft, and angry, as those crimson optics glared right into the elder gladiator's spark.

Nightshifter coughed, when the hand squeezed harder, waiting for an answer. He had to be quick with it: if he yielded now, he could come back another day and kill him. If he didn't yield, he would die, and that just wouldn't sound fun. Then again, he could ruin his reputation at being beaten by this little twit….

His thoughts were interrupted, as the mech squeezed harder.

Nightshifter coughed harshly, "I…yield….I yield gladiator….Galvatron…..!"

Then, the last thing he remembered before being punched in the helm and knocked unconscious was a smirk and those same red optics glimmering softly, before blackness claimed his unconscious mind.

...

Miss me?

Review please!

To Optimus' Girl: Thank you for the support, I hope prime doesn't die either.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7, AAAAAT LAAAAAAAAAAAST!

Anyway disclaimer: I do not own Transformers G1, it belongs to Hasbro. T-T

warning: some violence, attempted sexual assault

Enjoy!

...

Chapter 7

...

The onlookers of the arena were silent, as they watched the violet mech below.

Galvatron shook, as he stood up as tall as his injuries would allow. Every mech and femme stared at him, optics wide and jaws hanging loose making their mouth open in a wide circle. He felt unease at the lack of noise and response.

Was the crowd displeased with him? Were there too shocked to respond?

He took in deep intakes, trying to cool his overworked systems and to bear the pain in his leg and face plate. He became a little nervous as the silence stretched on. He gave a nervous swallow.

A soft clanging noise of metal against metal reached his audios, causing the mech to look in the direction of the noise. His optics widen, when he found the source of the noise coming from the top row, in the booth reserved for the Prime and his company.

If Galvatron had a much clearer view, he would have seen the pleased look of the Lord High Protector, as he gave him a small applause. He was soon followed by the row below them, their claps a little louder. Then the excitement seeped into the next row and some mechs and femmes were cheering. Soon every mech and femme around him broke out and applauded him, cheering and screaming in congratulations.

….

Megatron smiled at the sight of the gladiator's victory. He never really thought he'd smile for things like this beforehand, but alas he couldn't stop the pull on his lips that formed the small grin that radiated his pleasant surprise.

Sentinel clapped his servos together softly, an unreadable look on his face plates. Orion just slumped in his seat, looking relieved and also a bit flustered from the events that had just conspired before his very optics.

The Prime stood up from his seat and raised his hands to signal silence. The crowd became quiet, all blue, yellow, purple and red optics on them. Megatron's smiled disappeared, his face taking on an expression of blank neutrality, as Sentinel looked down upon the citizens of Cybertron.

The prime reeked of arrogant superiority, as his lips parted to speak.

"My dear, dear citizens of Cybertron. After watching this spectacle of strength, determination and bravery amongst warriors, I can proudly announce that this young mech standing before us all is the winner of tonight's tournament!" Sentinel's voice echoed thunderously for all to hear, and was soon accompanied by loud, jubilant cheers from the mechs and femmes all around. The prime motioned for silence once again though, and all obeyed without protest.

Sentinel smirked, his blue optics narrowed slightly, "And it gives me great honor that we shall have him living amongst those in Iacon," he settled his gaze on Megatron, "And hopefully, whatever job we choose for you will bring you great accomplishment."

Megatron's red optics flashed slightly, as he and Sentinel had a silent staring contest. He was the first to turn away, not wanting to start an argument after the fight. He didn't really want to have to deal with insults and useless fighting on the way back to Iacon.

His uncle gave a huff of satisfaction, before signaling to his people with an air of finality, as he said, "That is all."

When he sat back down, he turned to his nephew, "Have our guards wait until the arena has cleared out. I wish for us to stay and greet our new addition to Iacon Tower," A smile crossed the blue, gold and grey mech, revealing his flat denta and then tension in his sharp facial features. He didn't seem happy about something, not that Megatron cared.

The silver mech actually gave a small smirk, when he received the Prime's orders. Looks like his little mechling would get his wish. He turned to where Soundwave was seated.

"Well, looks like we'll be meeting him after all, Sound—" his voice stuck in his throat as he looked to his adopted sparkling—or where his adopted sparkling was SUPPOSED to be—and found him gone. He sat there, frozen and completely silent with his jaw hanging loosely as he stared at the empty chair.

Orion watched as the winner turned and left the arena, limping to one of the caverns and disappeared into the darkness of them, before he noticed the way the Lord High Protector stiffened in his seat. He stood and walked over and placing a servo on his shoulder, wondering what was wrong with the older mech. Static could be heard coming from his vocoder as he sat there. Something was definitely wrong since Megatron only did that when he was shocked out of his mind.

"Megatron, are you all ri—?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH!"

….

Soundwave walked through the tall and large tunnels that the gladiators lived in. He held onto Cyclonus' hand, as he was led through them, the lanterns growing brighter and brighter as they moved deeper and deeper into them. Stormflare kept and eased pace, as they walked.

For the first time in stellar-cycles, the seeker mech seemed to be radiating with pride from his student's victory. He had every right to be. Galvatron, his student, had won a hard battle and was moving out of this pit hole to start a new life. A chance that few in this profession were able to get.

He couldn't have been happier for the violet mech.

The Med. bay was quieter than usual due to the fact that some of the mechs and femmes in there were already dead and being prepared for the undertakers to take.

Galvatron as sitting on one of the med. berths and being looked over by the young medic that had been placed with him earlier. He was working on his face plates, getting the dents out of his cheeks. The young gladiator grunted as the dent was pushed at and then straightened.

His nose had already been welded back to its normal shape and his leg was resting in a small holster. The wounds to his chest and abdomen were already patched up with small welds and some of the dents had been removed.

When the dents to his face plates had been fixed, Galvatron moved his jaw around to make sure everything was in place.

"Gladiator Galvatron!"

"Oomph!" Galvatron jerked slightly at the impact of the small seekerling jumping on his abdomen. He looked down at the little seeker, before caressing the little wings on his back with one of his digits, "Heh, thought you'd come to visit, little one."

The reply was a soft, happy rumbled from the seeker's throat. He hugged the young mech as the medic got to work on his damaged leg.

"Hmm….seems the wound is only in need of a good patch job. I'll have it done in a few minutes, and you'll be on your way," the medic explained, with his optic completely focused on the wound, with his hand moving for needed tools.

Curiosity and shyness seemed to clash in Soundwave's helm as he stood before the violet mech being repaired. He timidly walked up to him with his small servos clasped together.

The gladiator flinched slightly when there was a tug on his free servo that hung off the side of the berth. He looked over Cyclonus to see who was tugging on his servo. His optics widened when he saw the small, navy youngling looking up at him with bright optics.

"Who is this?"

Cyclonus looked over, and grinned, "That's Soundwave, I met him in the stands!"

Soundwave shyly whispered, "Hello sir…."

Galvatron stared for a moment before a grin of his own appeared, "Well hello there. You must be new around here…."

Soundwave nodded in answer a little quickly.

"Hey, you're gonna make your helm fall off if you keep nodding that fast little one…." He tapped at the small crest on mechling's helm with a playful air about him.

Soundwave blushed in slight embarrassment, keeping from making optic contact. He was nervous for Primus' sake, he was in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of strangers, away from his Amma in order to speak to the injured gladiator before him.

He suddenly went stiff. His Amma…

"Hey, what's wrong Soundwave?" Cyclonus noticed how the young mech was tense.

"I'msorryCycIgottagobeforemyAmmafreaksnicemeetingy ouBYE!"

Galvatron shuttered his optics twice and stared as one moment the youngling was standing there and the next he was nothing but a blur out the doors of the med. bay.

"Wave wait, where are you going?!"

He grunted when Cyc scrambled off of him and ran after his new friend. When the two younglings left, Stormflare sighed as he walked up to his apprentice. The violet mech looked at his mentor. Silence filled the med. bay, save for the sound of patching and welding on Galvy's damaged leg with muttering from the young medic.

A dark servo rested on Galvatron's shoulder and squeezed it gently, making the young gladiator stare at his teacher with an unsure look as a rare sight happened.

Stormflare smiled, "Well done."

….

Soundwave ran through the dim caverns, unfamiliar tunnels of the darkness that gladiators lived in, ignoring Cyclonus' yells for him to come back. He slid on his pedes a few times when he made turns due to the smoothed down floor that was slick with some cleansing fluid. It kind of reminded him of how the corridors in the towers were polished on some days until they had a near frictionless shine.

But this place wasn't the well-known, bright towers of Iacon where the councilors and other high-classed mechs hide away from the outside world of problems to bask in their drunken power over Iacon.

_Clang!_

The navy blue youngling yelped as he ran into something when he made another turn. He fell back on to his aft, his nasal ridge aching from the impact and hissed as he rubbed the lightly dented metal.

"Well, well, well what do we have here, gentle-mechs?"

Amber optics flickered in slight fear, but mostly surprise when he saw he had ran into the black truck mech before him, with a neon orange triple-change to his left and a large sky blue construction-bot. Soundwave stood up and backed away slightly.

He apologized, "Excuse me sir, I wasn't looking to where I was going…"

"Whoa, what's the hurry?" a large pede blocked Soundwave's passage, neon orange mech blocking him giving a grin.

The largest of the three moved and blocked another opening past the black mech. The youngling began to get shivers beneath his proto-form at the tooth grins on the trio's face-plates. They were smiling, but something felt wrong about the way they did smile. He needed to find his Amma.

"U-Uh I-I'm looking for my Amma….."

"Daaw, de wittle sparkling's looking for his Amma? How cute…" the bright one hissed.

A large, grime covered servo grabbed his delicate arm firmly, squeezing it.

"How about this? We'll take you back to my place to wait for your Amma, eh? I'm sure…!"

"Soundwave!"

Wave turned his helm with wide optics, while the three mechs raised an optic ridge at Cyclonus. A critical air surrounded the three as they studied the seekerling running towards them.

As for Soundwave, he never felt so relieved in his existence as he was pulled out of the filthy mech's grip and was immediately hugged by the seeker child.

"Well, if it ain't the little bunny!" the thunderous voice of the dark mech laughed with his two chumps.

"Shut up, Deathcrawler!" Cyclonus snapped, his horns twitching angrily while he held Soundwave protectively.

"Well, looks like little bunny's got a little bite to him tonight…"

"Don't even Killstreak, he's Stormflare's kid. You know how those fragging stuffy fliers are about their brats. Not worth your life," The mech called Deathcrawler snorted at the orange mech, before licking his lips, "The little cutie he's got with him however…." He knelt in front of the two little ones, "If you don't hand your little friend over, I'll snap off those stupid horns on your helm and put them on a necklace to show your daddy…"

_Pttew! _

Deathcrawler scrunched up his face plates like crushed metal in a junkyard, before he wiped at the fluid from Cyclonus' oral cavity.

"Rrrrrrgraaah!"

Soundwave squeaked in fear as he clung to the violet seeker in sudden panic.

"Grab that little glitch!"

Killstreak grabbed the seeker sparkling before he could even think to move, while their sky blue companion immediately had Soundwave with an arm around the little one's throat and yanked him against his chest plating.

….

Megatron ran down the corridors barking at anyone, be they nobles or scums of the street, gladiators or working middle class, he didn't give a flying slag if they were in his way, he would get them out of his way if they caused an obstacle for him.

"Soundwave! Soundwave!" he yelled for his adopted creation.

He had already snapped orders to the guards to search throughout the establishment as he went through the dark tunnels.

"MOVE!" he pushed between a mech and a femme as they were conversing, the back of his servos causing a slight resounding crunch when they met with the face plates of the two individuals.

"Soundwave!" he went deeper and deeper into the tunnels, the lights becoming dimmer with the darkness' power beginning to overwhelm them.

"AAAAAMMMAAAAAAAAA!"

The energon in his systems felt like it had suddenly frozen at the screech. He had only heard it once when he found a navy blue sparkling kneeling by his parents corpses at the broken bond between them.

He heard another cry of pain that went with the one familiar one, even as his pedes forced him to move faster towards the source. There was a cackle as he made a sharp turn, only to stop in shock at the sight before him.

A little seeker sparkling was curled up as best he could, holding his wrist that was twisted at an unhealthy angle, as a mech held him in place. The mech standing over him was still laughing cruelly at the child's state of pain.

Another mech had Soundwave with an arm around his throat, holding him from trying to stop the other mech. He was in tears.

"Amma! AMMA!"

"Oh shut up!" SMACK!

The sound echoed in through Megatron's audios, that sent a wave of fury pound through him in response at the sight. The mech who had slapped his little one _across his cheek_ stood over the now sobbing sparkling.

"What's your fragging Amma gonna do, ya little pit spawn!? Huh?!" he demanded angrily, a sneer on his face plates as his two cronies snickered and laughed at the two sparkling's current predicaments.

"I'LL BREAK YOUR FRAGGING NECKS!"

An ebony fist sent the dark mech flying into the wall, creating small cracks in the ages old tunnel walls. He snarled, baring his denta in rage at the piece of slag.

"Hey, where the pit did you come from ya fragged up—?!" servo landed on his shoulder.

Out of pure instinct, he grabbed the stranger's servos, twisted the arm and threw him over his shoulder with a roar as he threw him down flat on his back. He didn't spare them a second glance as he turned to the third mech standing holding his child by the throat.

The mech holding his adopted son stared with wide optics, his mouth plates moving up and down as if to speak. The words weres stuttered out, "S-s-s-s-surrender n-now and I-I-I'll…..I-I-I'll…."

When the mech was trying to speak, the silver mech had just walked over slowly until he was close enough to feel the shaking exhales of air against his face plates. He gave a smirk, before sending a right hook straight at his face plates and sent him down to the ground.

There was a moment of silence. Megatron knelt down before Soundwave, the little one's armor making a small rattling noise as he shook hard.

With cautiousness and concern the surrogate mother and Lord High Protector reached for the frightened little one, "Soundwave…?"

What answered him was a sudden wail and screech as the sparkling collapsed into the large, safe silver arms of his Amma and started sobbing hard.

Immediately, the silver mech went from enraged protector to gentle caretaker as he soothingly caressed and rubbed the child's shoulders and back, hushing him gently. There was sudden movement, causing him to snap his helm in the direction of the motion.

The other sparkling he had seen, the one with the broken wrist and strange horns on his helm, looked at him with wide, almost frightened optics. The two stared at each other for a moment, before the silver mech reached forwards slowly to caress one of the antennae.

Immediately, the seeker child leaned into the adult's servos, accepting the comfort given due to the radiating protectiveness coming from the silver mech, despite this mech being a stranger. He whined at the pain in his broken wrist, tears brimming at his optics.

"Let's get you both to a med. bay…"

The little seeker nodded gently before gasping.

Tensing, Megatron turned.

He was grabbed by the throat and slammed against the wall. Soundwave yelled, before Cyclonus pulled him back so he wouldn't be in the way.

Deathcrawler, his bottom lip split and his optics bright with the need to avenge himself, pinned the silver mech against the wall. He squeezed slightly as the silver mech squirmed beneath his grip. His energon pumped through his circuitry with a rushing feeling of euphoria when he felt the main energon lines in his grip.

Megatron grabbed at the servo around his throat and attempted to yank it off while his free one kept his assailant from punching his face plates. He looked at the two little ones from the corner of his optics.

"Soundwave…" he hissed, "run….."

Soundwave's optics widened before he shook his helm slightly. He gasped when his Amma gave him a pleading look.

"Run…." He growled and tried harder to pull the digits constricting around his neck cords.

He really didn't want Soundwave to see this…

The sound of small pedes moving brought the slightest relief when he say them running off, the purple seeker sparkling leading his adopted navy blue one. Once out of sight, Megatron rammed his pede into Deathcrawler's abdomen, loosening the grip enough for him to yank it off.

"You messed with the wrong mech, fragger!" He growled, before slamming the front of his helm against the older gladiator's.

Deathcrawler yelled, his nasal ridge nearly smashed from the hard impact. He tilted his helm back, grabbing it between his two digits to slow the bleeding energon.

Primus, what was this mech on?! It was like he was one of those head gladiators that ran the pits, kept everyone in check and got a lot of credits for their battle performance against others. And never lost. Plus, how could he be that brat's creator? For one thing, there was no resemblance between them and even if they were related why would he leave him alone? Who cared anyone, the gladiator was just looking for something to sell in the slave market or one of those high classes brothels….

Megatron ran at his opponent, prepared to punch him like he had done to Soundwave's captor when suddenly he felt a pressure around his pedes that caused him to go off balance and fall flat on his front. He growled when his helm smacked against the hard floor of the ground.

"Pin him down!"

A second pair of servos grabbed his wrists and twisted his arms behind his back. Megatron thrashed a moment, attempting to dislodge the two mechs without any success.

A pede suddenly pinned his helm down while two pairs of servos kept his arms and legs pinned. He hissed in anger and irritation at his vulnerable position.

There was a soft chuckle form the mech above him, "Well this is an interesting turn of events. For you possibly…"

Megatron tried again to get free but these three had him good. He growled, squirming and wiggling. He felt like some helpless turbo-fox pup about to be devoured by three hungry spark-eaters that were enjoying his attempts to escape them. It made him feel pathetic and slightly disgusted with himself that he was even in this situation….

….

Galvatron walked through the corridors with a small limp in his step as he went down the corridor towards his quarters. He was a bit tired and just wanted to polish and sharpen his weapons, rest up a little, possibly go to get a cube of high grade later if he was up for it.

He was a little…giddy. He had just one a match against Nightstalker, made his mentor proud and would soon be leaving this place of the pits forever!

The young gladiator felt a grin form on his face plates that nearly filled the entire lower half of his face plates.

And it was immediately wiped clean off when he saw, waiting by his door, Cyclonus whose energon blood stained the floor by his pedes as he held his damaged wrist to his chest plating with his little friend trying to help him get in although he could not reach the key pad to Galvatron's quarters.

"Cyclonus!?"

The two young ones looked to the purple mech at his summoning shout. Cyclonus made soft whimpers as he tried to get to Galvatron as quickly as he could. The normally, reserved and mature child of Stormflare, started sobbing as he hugged the older mech before around the waist and babbling gibberish to him.

Soundwave stayed where he was, as he watched the violet mech immediately place both servos on the seeker. Violet digits caressed over the horns, before tilting the little one's helm back to look him in the optics.

The sight of the little one before him in tears caused the gladiator's spark to clench in his casing. He ignored it in favor of finding out what exactly had happened and wanting to know who had done this to the little seeker.

"What happened Cyclonus?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"D-D-Deathcrawler….and his….his cronies t-tried to…tried to take Soundwave….I t-t-tried to st-stop them and they…they held me down and broke my wrist….th-they were gonna tear off m-my horns next…when S-Soundwave's Amma came and…and fought them….h-he's still fighting them—n-needs h-hel—!"

Oh by all the deepest parts of the pits, Deathcrawler had done this? Sure he was a jerk who couldn't hold his energon well and it was no secret that he had a reputation of taking orphans of Kaon and placing them up for sale, but harming the only child of one of the most respected gladiators? He must have had a death wish tonight….

"Can you lead me to them?" he said softly, keeping his anger at bay as he looked at Soundwave.

The blue child looked at him with pleading optics, with the mix of fear and tears of concern enough to get the gladiator motivated.

Cyclonus nodded, still taking in shaky intakes, before taking one of the few mechs he had complete trust in by the servo and led him, as well as Soundwave back to where the fighting was taking place.

…

Megatron choked slightly, coughing as he was punched hard in the abdomen where his energon tanks were. He tried to hold down the half processed energon from making its way up his throat and out of his body.

Two out of the three mechs held his arms pinned behind him. The third one, obviously the leader of this trio was beating him like he was one of those near realistic practice dummies in the training room.

Some oil dripped from his chin as well as the bile he couldn't keep down completely.

He tuned out the taunts and insults thrown his way. He kept trying to focus on what he could do to try and escape and renew his search for Soundwave but when he started to come up with a plan, it was all interrupted and disoriented in his mind when his focus was broken by the blows delivered to his person.

He didn't know how much more he could take.

Deathcrawler smirked as he looked at the slightly battered frame of his opponent. Oh, what a delicious sight to his optical sensors as he gazed upon the dents, cuts and scrapes from his very blows. It was one of the few things he enjoyed about being a gladiator: he could cause other's as much pain as he wanted in the ring or on the training grounds it didn't matter how to him how he did it.

This silver mech was a tough one though. He knew by how he took the battering abuse and how he refused to make any noise when he was punched, slashed and beaten. He could probably take a laser scalpel and take his insides out while he was alive and he still wouldn't break under that.

"My, my aren't you the tough one…." He hissed.

He remembered other mechs like this one who didn't give in to mere beatings of plain physical torture. No, this one was one of the ones where it took a technique the caused both physical and mental agony. Deathcrawler hummed in thought for a moment. As much as he enjoyed beating this mech, he hated waiting for him to break. Plus, despite all the injuries, his frame was quite nice, smooth and slightly curvy from what he saw.

He looked to Killstreak and his third companion for a moment. They didn't need to hear him say it to know what Deathcrawler had plan.

Killstreak immediately covered the mech's mouth just in case this "technique" caused him to make loud noises and attracted unwanted attention. Megatron immediately tried to bite the servo over his mouth plating but he was immediately side tracked when one of the mechs holding him pinned, grabbed one of his legs and pulled it up straight.

His optics widened slightly in shocked rage as one of the most delicate spots of his body, still covered was suddenly in the line of sight to the mech before him.

Oh no…they weren't actually going to...?!

"It's been a long, long time since I broke a mech in this fashion…" the head mech smirked.

The silver mech felt himself freeze up, optics wide at the thought that this mech….was going to….to…..

He immediately thrashed around to get free kicking out at Deathcrawler and trying to break out of the tightening grips on his person. He had to get away! He couldn't let this happen, he just couldn't let them do THAT to him! Not after…the first time….

"Oh, don't be like that…" the black mech grabbed his kicking pede and held it still, "I promise that this will be an experience you will _never forget_…."

The Lord High Protector knew he meant every words when he started pawing at the latches to his cod piece. He tried to pull his leg free, curl away, bite the servo, scream at the top of his vocals….nothing happened as they only kept him pinned, spread and vulnerable.

_Click!_

The latch came undone on his hips and he was barren.

A fear spread through him. A fear so long since buried in his processor, it felt ancient and yet still had that powerful influence as it came to the surface that made him completely freeze and become slightly catatonic….

Deathcrawler smirked at the sight before him. This mech was no scum of Kaon by how well-kept his interface equipment appeared before him. Oh, it would be so much fun ruining it…

It happened to quickly that no one knew what had happened.

Megatron only remembered that he had woken from his state of shock on the ground and curled up to try and cover himself from any set of optics looking at him.

Deathcrawler however, remembered every moment for as long as he would exist. He remembered those pit fire optics flashing, a battle cry that sent him into a complete state of fear whenever he remembered hearing it and the servos of a strong mech beating him, tearing off one of his limbs and making him scream in agony and begging for forgiveness until he was placed in stasis lock that lasted for nearly seventeen solar-cycles, with Killstreak and their third companion out far longer than him.

Galvatron panted as he glared at the three mechs in stasis at his pedes as he recovered from his "black-out". He only remembered seeing the silver mech being pinned and silenced helplessly as Deathcrawler attempted to have his way with him, before the violet gladiator had gone into a rage the would rival Unicron's.

When was calm enough, he turned to the silver mech. He stared for a moment at the curled up form that was so still that one might have thought the mech was dead if his red optics weren't on-lined. He looked around a moment before spotting the black cod-piece.

He picked it up, wiping away any dirt that might be on it before turning to the silver mech.

He approached the mech slowly. The gladiator did not wish to scare him in anyway as he waited let him calm down a bit. He looked over and saw Cyclonus and Soundwave with their optics covered, waiting for Galvatron to tell them when it would be okay for them to look and uncover their optics.

Galvatron walked slowly towards Megatron and knelt down in front of him. The Lord High Protector looked at the purple gladiator with slight distrust mixed with a some gratitude. They remained staring at each other for a while longer, before the gladiator reached towards him.

"Are you all ri—?" he started.

"HALT!"

Galvatron grunted as he was suddenly tackled to the ground and pinned down to the ground on his front. Megatron started rather dumbly as his very own guards pinned down the mech who had just saved him from being assaulted by the three unconscious mechs.

As a few of the mechs under the Lord High Protectors command helped their leader up, the others were busy keeping Galvatron pinned and putting stasis cuffs on his wrists. Only one word could be heard amongst the shouting and barking of orders from one of the mechs who had Galvatron practically floored down.

"You are under arrest!"

...

CLIFFY! MUAHAHAHA!

Review please!

To Optimus' Girl: Thank you for the support, I hope prime doesn't die either.


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